Their Love, Her Murder
by Sanqhian
Summary: Danny had a normal life. Or so he thought. Then the feelings started. Now she's dead. [slash]
1. Intro

**Title:** Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer: **Serious slash. Slightly violent. Language.

**POV: **Danny

**

* * *

Introduction**

My mind wanders. A young woman flashes by. The case I am- correction, was working on. I sit in the uncomfortably stiff chair. A glance over my shoulder shows my boss outside talking with Stella. Why haven't those two jumped each other yet? The attraction and sexual energy is obvious. Is it so wrong to answer those urges?

Stella quickly glances in my direction. There's a slight smile on her face. Mac doesn't look happy, though, as he enters his office. I close my eyes. I know what is coming. I can hear the words and Mac hasn't even opened his mouth.

"Mac, I'm sorry. Please-"

He puts his hand up. "Just listen to me Danny." I shut my mouth. "You have seriously compromised this investigation. We may not be able to catch the perp now. Now, I have talked things over with those in charge and they decided that I have the right to choose what happens to you."

The beat of my heart quickens. "I'm fired, aren't I?"

His face doesn't change. It's a loss of emotions. I wonder what would happen if I groveled? Would it save my job? At least if my job was over I would have my relationship. It wouldn't be a problem anymore. I realize that Mac is staring at me. Did he say something and he's waiting for a reply?

He places a case folder in the ever growing pile on his desk. "No, you are not fired. However, you are on probation. Screw up again and you're out. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're excused, you may leave now." He gestures to the door with his hand. I don't move as he flips open a different case file. He looks up when he realizes that I haven't budged.

"Is there something you want, Danny?"

"What about Flack?"

He sighs. "Detective Flack is not my problem. If his boss wants to fire him, than he can do so. I have no say in the matter." The tone of his voice told me that I had better leave or risk his temper.

I quickly remove myself from his office. That wasn't so bad. At least I still had my job. But what happened to Flack? Would they actually fire him? He was a good, no, great detective. I shake my head. How did I let this all happen? Too many lives have been affected because of my stupidity.

I bump into Hawkes, literally. He's walking backwards with a gurney between him and the new CSI, Lindsay. I haven't really talked with Lindsay Monroe. I was unhappy with Aiden being fired. Evidence tampering was, and is, bad, though. It is a serious crime. How horrible it would have been to be fired just a few months after Aiden had gone.

"So, do you still have a job?" Hawkes asks.

"Yes, unless I screw up again."

Lindsay stays quiet. "Guess you better be careful. Mac will be watching you like a hawk now, Danny," Hawkes warns.

"Hey, Daniel Messer, you have a visitor in the lobby. Some guy," a brunette in a lab coat tells me.

"Uh, guess I better go see who it is."

"We should be getting this body to the morgue anyway. Remember, be careful." Hawkes and Lindsay resume wheeling the dead person off to the morgue. Better them than me. The new morgue attendant gave me the creeps.

Flack was standing in the corner of the lobby. This was highly unusual. Why did he have to get someone to fetch me? He usually just walked into the lab.

"Flack?"

He turns to me. "Hey, Danny-boy. We need to talk."

I notice that something is off. Something in his voice. "Let's take it outside. Too many people here."

We mutually agree and step outside. Without talking we walk to the corner. Will Mac be mad that I met with Flack? I stop. Everything about Flack's mood is disturbing.

"What's going on? Why didn't you come and get me yourself?" I ask.

He looks at me with those amazing blue eyes of his. "I couldn't. Danny, they took my badge."


	2. So It Begins

**Title: **Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer: **Serious slash. Slightly violent. Language. Character death.

**POV: **Danny

**

* * *

**

**Chapter One: So It Begins**

_A few days before..._

The sun rises on another day. I'm the first one in the lab, aside from Mac, of course. I don't believe he actually leaves at night. He just hasn't been the same since his wife died. Love becomes an important part of your life once you have it. You never want to let it go and you don't care what happens when you find it. When people bad mouth the love of your life, you argue with them, defend your lover. Love is precious. Something to hold on to.

So why am I avoiding my feelings? Why am I keeping it all in? Is it the fear of rejection? My mother asks me every single day if I've found a girl yet. If I have found someone that I'd like to settle down with. I have. Sort of.

_Nothing is going to happen if you keep it all inside. Make a move. Give it a shot. Who knows what might happen, _I think.

"Morning, Danny," Mac greets me. There's already that air about him, the one he gets when we have a new case.

"Good morning, Mac."

"Not for all of us." He hands me the case file in his hands. "Take this. Flack will meet you at the crime scene."

"Alright."

So much for the morning coffee. Guess it will have to be noon coffee. What kind of case have I been given? I open the folder as I redirect myself toward the company SUVs. Reports of gunfire lead to the finding of a young man, dead in his bedroom. I grab my kit and make my way out to the scene.

I park behind a police cruiser. Most likely the one belonging to Flack. I shut off the engine but don't get out of the car. I can't. This is too hard. I should turn around and ask Mac to reassign me. To find me a new case. There's just one small problem with that, he'll ask me why. And he'll want a real answer. He'll know if I'm lying. I can't tell him why. I don't even like telling myself.

_Grow a backbone, Danny Messer. You can do this. Just ask him._

"Alright, I'll ask him," I say aloud to myself.

Someone taps on the driver side window making me jump. It's Flack. He moves back a step and I open the door. It's time to get out and get this done. I need to act normal.

"Do you talk to yourself often?" Flack asks me.

Damn, he heard me. "Only when I get board. I've had full conversations with myself."

He smiles at my slight joking. Oh, why did it have to be that smile? Why is it that he makes me feel this way inside? Couldn't it have been someone else? That smile, the way it makes his eyes sparkle. And those eyes, such a deep and beautiful blue. How could you not love them? They make his black hair even darker. Tall, dark, and handsome, all in one.

"Who were you talking about? The person you wanted to ask something of?" He questions.

By now we're half way to the crime scene. I can clearly hear the interviewing of other officers. Someone has to have seen something. Right? I don't answer him right away. How can I? I need to think up a convincing lie. There's one out there, I know there is. We finally make it to the guy's floor. All his neighbors are out in the hall. It's a freakish array of some seriously scary looking bathrobes.

I can feel their eyes following me as I walk to the taped off area. Or are all girls checking out Flack? The apartment of the deceased is extremely bland. The walls are white. The carpets are brown. A ratty couch sits in front of a not-too-expensive TV. Nothing hangs on the walls and there are no books or magazines.

"What a house keeper. He has a great design style," I say offhandedly.

Flack chuckles. "Maybe he can come do my apartment. It needs that extra special touch."

I ignore him. Again. It's the only way to get it done. The only way for me to act normal. I don't want to slip up and let him know that he's on my mind.

_You can't keep it up forever, Messer. He'll eventually notice. You know that._

"Which way to the bedroom?" I ask. I look around the room again to avoid looking at him.

"That way, through the door behind you." He doesn't seem to notice my slight indifference toward him. That's good.

I make my way through the sparse living room, pass a bathroom, and into the only bedroom.

"Wow," I say surprised. "What do you know? The guy does have some taste."

I can feel Flack behind me. He stops at the doorway as I enter into the room. The walls are a still white. Probably an apartment rule. But the bed is king-sized and covered in silk sheets. A large painting of an airplane is hanging on the wall over the headboard. Basic lamps are accompanied by tons of jewelry boxes on a small table to the side.

This seems to be the place to start. I make my way over. I open ten of the numerous boxes to find necklaces, bracelets, and rings of gold, platinum and silver with various gemstones.

"Guess we can rule out robbery," I mutter.

I go to the dresser. The mirror above it is surrounded by an engraved wooden frame. The clothes inside are Armani and Abercrombie.

"He obviously had money. So why the bare living room?" I ask aloud.

"Maybe he didn't want people to know that he had money," Flack suggests.

"Or the money wasn't his. Where's the body?"

Flack points to a light wooden door on the right side of the room. Is he kidding me? I make my way over to it. Inside is a closet full of suits. Boxes of who-knows-what sat upon the top shelf. On the floor, where they should have been shoes, sat the deceased. In his boxers. Hand and feet bound. Blood had colored the carpet a disgusting brown-red.

I grab my flashlight from my kit and shine it in. The wounds are in his head. Most likely bullet holes. I shine the light over the rest of his body. There's blood on his hands. Maybe he didn't die so easily. I'd have to ask the coroner to scrape under his nails. However, just to make sure; I took a scraping myself. You could never be too safe.

Grabbing a jar and a brush I checked out the light switch for the closet. Fingerprint free. I flicked it on.

"Someone had it in for him. By the way, what's his name?"

Flack flips open his little notebook. "Says here that it's Jim Jackson. I have an officer running checks on the guy right now."

I begin to snap photos of the scene.

"You usually don't fly solo on these things, where is everyone else?" Flack inquires.

"I was the first one into work today. First one Mac saw, anyway."

After a few more minutes I place the camera back in my kit. It takes another hour and half to finish collecting evidence. Flack doesn't move the entire time. I don't like working while he watches me. It makes me nervous. Why? Yet, I'm thrilled that he has stayed. That means something, doesn't it?

_He's just here keeping an eye on me. Cops keep the CSIs safe. Don't you know anything? Remember what happened a few years ago in Nevada?_

"Done," I declare as I close-up my kit. Flack steps aside as I leave the room. He follows me. Why does he always have to follow me?

"I'll tell the ME's to disturb the body position as little as possible while transporting it," Flack says.

"Thanks. That will make Mac's day."

He follows me back to my car. Why is he escorting me everywhere? This is a tad weird. I place my kit and the little bit of evidence in the trunk of the SUV. The keys are in my hand and I unlock the door when Flack stops me.

"Hey, you want to get a drink tonight?"


	3. Confessions

**Title: **Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer:** Serious slash. Violence. Language. Character death.

**POV: **Danny

**Chapter Two: Confessions**

I spread the evidence on the table in front of me. Who would murder a guy with over a million dollars worth of jewelry and leave that jewelry behind? I look at the only box that I took from the closet. It was the only one that had any weight to it. The rest of the boxes had been empty. So, either someone did rob the guy and they missed a box; or, he kept all those empty boxes to hide the real treasure.

So what's in the box?

With my gloved hands I pop the top. "Holy shit," I mutter.

"Find something good in your case?" Hawkes asks as he enters the room.

"You bet I did. Do you need something tested?"

"Nope. Just stopping by to let you know Flack has a suspect he's about to interrogate."

No sooner did Hawkes leave the room than Stella grabbed him by the arm. They have been trying to figure out if the mid-aged man who died in a car accident was suicide or murder. That didn't seem as appealing as my case. For once I was glad that Mac had seen me first. My last case had not been that great. A girl had died from jumping off a building. She had gotten high and thought she could fly. Drugs love to fuck with your head.

I slip the box into an evidence bag. Flack is going to love what is inside. Why hadn't Flack called me? Why did he call Hawkes? I check my cell phone. It's fully charged. No missed calls. I would love to get a call from him. To hear his voice.

_Perhaps he's mad that you brushed him off._

I did avoid his question earlier today. Yes, I would love to get a drink with him. But at that time, my voice just wouldn't work. My brain went dead. So I said nothing. I climbed into the car and left.

_Damn you, Daniel. You're a Scientist, this should be easy._

Matters of the heart being easy?

"Hey, they you are, I've been looking for you."

The pace of my heart quickened. His voice always did that to me. He said that he was looking for me. Is it just for the case? Or could it be…?

"I have a young lady who has confessed to the murder of Mr. Jackson. I figured you'd want some DNA to test her story."

"What's her story?"

He grabs my arm above the elbow and directs me into a room full of filing cabinets with a table. I look into his seriously blue eyes. Why do I feel like I'm floating in a sea of emotion?

"She says the guy rapped her. That he took pictures of her and made threats," he explains in a low tone. "Danny, she can't be any older than sixteen. If what she says is true, than I'm happy that Jim Jackson is dead. Scum like him deserves it."

"I think she's telling the truth." I walk over to the table. I remove the box from the bag and place it on the table.

"What is that?"

"He had a ton of shoe boxes in his closest. All empty. Except for this one." I remove the lid. "He didn't want anyone to find his personal collection."

Flack makes his way slowly to the box. He takes one peek inside and looks away. I see the disgust in his face. I'm all too happy to close the box back up. Silently I slip it back into the bag.

"How many pictures you think are in there?" He asks. "How many girls you think he's exploited?"

"They weren't just girls, Flack," I say softly.

"I think the jury will go easy on the girl. Personally, I'm happy she did the guy in. One less pervert for me to worry about."

I agree with him. He looks disturbed and deeply troubled. Cases with kids are always the hardest. Such innocence. This man exploited so many children. Their ages ranging from seven to seventeen; both boys and girls. I bet he used the jewelry to catch the eyes of the girls. Maybe he told the boys that they could purchase the merchandise for their girlfriends or mothers.

"Well, I guess I should be getting on with this," Flack says. He makes his way toward the door. He wants to distance himself from the evidence. Can't say that I blame him.

"Yes," I blurt out.

"What?" Confusion makes his blue eyes look a little darker. Dark blue, light blue, bright blue; didn't matter, they always make me feel the same.

"The offer you made earlier, about getting a drink, I'd love to."

"Oh, I-"

I don't want to hear him say the offer is off the table. "I'm sorry that I didn't answer you sooner. It's just, a new case, you never know where it's going to go. I figured that I'd have to work late. But now my night is free." I chew my bottom lip. "So, does the offer still stand?"

"Um, sure. I'll swing by and pick you up after work. See you then."

And he left. My heart flutters. I can't believe I did that. Mac shouldn't have a problem with me going out earlier tonight. All I had to do was match the DNA of the girl to the sample from the under the guy's nails. If it is a match, case solved. I grab the evidence bag and head back to the lab.

* * *

Flack keeps his word; he's here to pick me up as soon as his shift is over. I remove my lab coat.

"You ready to go?" He asks.

"Just have to clear things with Mac." He gives me a questioning look. "I need to make sure it's okay that I leave. It should be okay though. The DNA matches the confession."

"Alright. I'll be waiting out front."

I watch him walk away. Coming and going, he's nice on the eyes. Mac has no problem with me leaving. He's happy to have the case solved so quickly. That so very rarely happens. He does explain to me, though, that if no new cases come in that I'll be helping Stella and Hawkes. I tell him that's fine. Then I make my way out to spend the evening with Flack.

* * *

The bar is kind of depressing. Low lights, country music, hookers. Why did Flack bring me here? I feel like I'mat a future crime scene. The placeis disgusting.

_Maybe he just wants to get you wasted so that he can take advantage of you._

I have no problem with that. The more time I spend with Flack, the happier I feel. I haven't felt so happy in so long. I wake up every morning knowing that at some point in my day I'll get to look into those blue eyes. It makes the job a little easier to handle.

The bartender places the third round of beers in front of us. I usually don't drink so much. Mac wouldn't be pleased. I know that if he finds out he'll be unhappy. He'll get over it. You've got to live a little, right?

Flack leans over to whisper in my ear. I nearly drop my beer when I hear what he says.

"I want to have breakfast with you."


	4. Always A Gentleman

**Title:** Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer:** Serious slash. Violence. Angst.

**POV:** Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Three: Always A Gentleman **

The ringing drives itself deep into my subconscious. Slowly, using a stray beam of light as a rope, I climb my way out into the real world. The sun is shining through the partially open curtains in my bedroom. For a minute I'm lost. Then telephone sounds its wake-up call again. Groggy, I reach over to the bedside table.

"Hello?" My voice is slightly scratchy.

"Danny, you're late. What the hell are you still doing at home?" Mac doesn't sound happy. I fish around on the table for my glasses. I slip them on. The clock tells me in bold red numbers that it's almost eleven in the morning.

"Oh, shit, sorry, Mac. I'll be right in."

"Come straight to my office when you get here." The click of the phone lets me know that he's gone.

I rollover. Why the hell did I sleep so late? Why didn't my alarm go off? Not a great way to start a day. I should have told Mac that I was sick. At least than I wouldn't have to face his anger. It's not until I'm half-way through my shower that I remember last night. I remember what Flack said. I blush again. He's not here. I thought he wanted to have breakfast with me?

_You fucked up, Danny. Nice move. _

The drive to work is spent worrying. What did I do? Why wasn't Flack there? Did we get into an argument? Why can't I remember anything? It's all so frustrating. What if I see him at work today? Should I just ignore him? I feel like banging my head against the steering wheel. But what would that accomplish?

Mac is sitting in his office talking to Stella. That's all they ever do. Talk and talk and talk. Everyone else in the lab can see it; the attraction. But they don't. Scientists are not always smart. Than again, no one is when the heart is concerned.

Mac sees me. He says something to Stella and she gets up to leave. We run into each other at the door.

"Gees, Danny, you look like shit," she says.

"Why thank you, Stella. Is he pissed?" I ask.

"More like a little furious." She gives me a reassuring wink before leaving. Probably to find Hawkes and Lindsay. She'll probably tell them that I got myself into trouble again. Nothing like making the lab gossip topic of the day. I realize that I'm holding my breath and let it out as I enter the office.

"Daniel, nice of you to finally join us today," Mac says.

"Sorry, my alarm didn't go off. I won't let it happen again, Mac. I swear."

He shakes his head. "Don't lie to me, Danny. I know that you were out drinking last night. An officer saw you. He knew that I had rules against drinking."

"I'm sorry, Mac. I really am. I won't let it happen again. Please. I was feeling bad about the case I had just worked. I need to get rid of the images in my head. All those kids. All the things that guy did. I didn't know what else to do," I explain. "It was a bad move and I'm sorry. I promise not to slip up again."

He sits their quietly while I run-off at the mouth. An eerie silence follows my explanation. Then he finally says something.

"Screw up again and I may just have to demote you. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Get going. You've been assigned to help Hawkes and Stella with their case." He stands. "If you need me, I'll be out re-going over my crime scene with Lindsay."

We part ways. I sigh in relief. I can't believe that Mac found out. Hell, I can't believe that someone tattled on me. How low is that? I know that drinking was wrong. I knew I shouldn't have gone. But I couldn't ignore it. Not when I was asked to go by Flack.

_Hey, hey, slow down, Danny. Mac never mentioned Flack. Maybe you weren't really with him. Maybe you're just imagining things. _

I shake my head. I can't be. Can I?

"Hey, Danny, over here." Hawkes waves to me. I see Stella in the corner behind him. She's talking to someone on her cell phone. Maybe it's Mac. Maybe they have a secret relationship. If they do, they hide it well.

"You want to fill me in since I'm helping you now?" I ask Hawkes.

"Sure thing. Glad to have your help. I hear that you're quite the puzzle-solver. Mac won't admit it though," he says with a smile. "Anyway. Our victim is Jacob Bradley. His Ford Explorer went off the road three nights ago. He died of arsenic poisoning. We found a few loves notes in his briefcase and a hotel key."

"Did you follow the key?" It's an obvious question, but I like to ask anyway. One has to cover all their bases.

"Yes. The room was registered in his name. The clerk never saw him with anyone. The surveillance cameras back him up."

"What about the letters? Are they from a current lover or ex? Was Mr. Bradley married?"

"No wife and no one ever saw him out with a girlfriend. The dates at the top suggest that they're relatively new. Unless he was writing letters to himself, there's a girl out there somewhere that loves this man."

"Or murdered him Are the letters signed with a name?"

"Nope. All of them are signed with the initials, K.L.D. We haven't found any contacts in his personal-affects that share those initials."

Stella is still on the phone. I thought she was assigned to this case too. Why is she just chatting away with someone? Who am I to judge, though? I was late today. Seems that the two best CSI's here were Hawkes and Mac. I didn't know Lindsay well enough. I sort of avoid getting to know her. She was supposed to be the replacement of my best friend. That reminds me, I need to call up Aiden and see how things are going.

"Here, take this," Hawkes says as he hands me an evidence bag. Inside is a vial of white substance. "We found this in the car and haven't had time to run it. Will you do us the favor?"

"Sure," I reply. Trace. Always trace. At least this time it's not exploited children. I bid Hawkes goodbye and wave to Stella. Yes, she is still on the phone.

I walk toward the Trace Lab. My mind tries desperately to remember last night while I walk in silence. If I got wasted, why don't I have a hangover? My head doesn't hurt at all. I contemplate smacking my head on the door to the lab. But just like with the steering wheel, what would that accomplish?

"Messer, you feeling okay?"

That voice. That sweet voice. I knew that I would see him here. I always do. I turn around. Flack is giving me a weird look. His blue eyes match the blue of the shirt he's wearing. The man really knows how to carry-off wearing a suit.

"I'm just fine, Flack. Is there something I can do for you?"

"I'm glad to see you got to work just fine."

"Just fine?" He follows me into the lab. "I did not get to work 'just fine'. I was late and Mac is pissed. And you know what? I can't for the life of me remember what happened last night."

_Stupid! Shut your mouth! What if something did happen? You just told him that he wasn't worth remembering. Go dig yourself a grave, Danny. You're finished._

He chuckles. "You got a bit wasted, so I took you home. I made you an old hangover rememdy that my mother taught me. You fell asleep on your bed when I sent you in to change. You looked like anangel. It didn't feel right to wake you."

"You could have turned on my alarm clock," I say. I let him know that I'm not serious by smiling.

"I'll remember that. For next time."


	5. A Little Something Sweet

**Title: **Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer:** Serious slash. Violence. Language. Angst. Character death.

**POV: **Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Four: A Little Something Sweet**

I take of my glasses and rub the bridge of my nose. I have been studying the sample from Mr. Bradley's car for hours. It doesn't match the arsenic that killed him. It's not drugs. Hell, I even thought it might be drywall dust. Nope. Just another dead end. I'm tired of starring at the computer. I want to take a break. Maybe catch up on how things are going with Hawkes and Stella. Only, they went out not too long ago. I saw them. Nice of them to include me in the investigation. I sort of feel like everyone is pulling away from me. What did I do?

"Screw this," I mutter. I leave the evidence on the table and leave my white lab coat hanging on a hook. I want fresh air. I want to be somewhere. Anywhere but starring at a foreign white substance. Maybe the fresh air will trigger something in my mind and I'll come up with some idea as to what the substance is.

I pass Mac's office. No one is there. I haven't seen Lindsay either. Seems I'm the only one around. Kind of like a lab-shut-in. Ever get the feeling that people don't want you around?

My stomach growls. I check my watch. I missed lunch. Big surprise there. I wonder if anyone else missed lunch. It's never fun to eat out alone. I flip open my cell phone and dial Aiden.

"This is Aiden," she answers.

"Hey, how are things going?"

"Danny, what a surprise. I'm doing okay. I'm actually on my way to a job interview right now. What can I do for you?"

I sigh. "You already answered my question. I was going to see if you wanted to do lunch but you're busy."

She giggles. "Danny, lunch? It's three in the afternoon. Most people have had lunch by now."

"So it seems. But I've been trying to identify some white substance and I just lost track of time. It happens to the best of us."

"So it does." We talk more about the job interview she's going to. We promise each other that we'll get together soon and then hang up. My stomach growls again. There has to be someone out there who hasn't eaten. We don't all just get up and eat at noon. It's not plausible.

I dial another number. His number. What the hell am I doing?

"Detective Flack." He always sounds business like on his cell phone. I smile at the sound of his voice. I like that he enjoys his job. Why work a job you hate?

"Flack, it's Danny. What are you doing?"

"Sitting at my desk starring at two-day-old Chinese take-out. What about you?"

Fate? Destiny? Or just mere coincidence? "Walking out of the lab. I missed lunch. Want to go grab some food?"

"Sure, anything has to be better than this old Chinese. I think it just moved. Where you want to go?"

"I'll meet you at the restaurant two blocks from the lab. You know which one I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Yep, I'll be there in just a few minutes."

I don't hang-up. Even though he has. I can't believe we're going to have lunch together. I can't believe that I called him. I can't believe that he accepted. Maybe there's something to all this. Could it be that he feels the same? Or is he just toying with me?

I get a table at the restaurant. I don't want to get caught sitting in the bar. You never know who might see you. What might get leaked back to the man in charge. Flack shows up about ten minutes later. By now I've already looked over the menu. If possible, I am hungrier than I was. A lot of the food looks good.

Flack joins me. Before saying anything at all he cruises over the menu. The waitress comes and we both end up ordering the same thing; a burger and fries. It's not until she leaves that Flack actually looks at me.

"So what case are you working now?" He asks.

"Mac stuck me with Hawkes and Stella. Some guy who died of arsenic poisoning."

He cocks an eyebrow. "If you know what killed him, then why did you miss lunch?"

"Running trace on some foreign substance. I still haven't figured out what it is. But it was found in the back of the car the guy was driving. The car that he drove off the road," I explain. "What are you doing?"

"Right now, just paperwork. Nothing big has come in yet. I say, give it another hour and I'll have something."

We both laugh. New York sure has its fair share of crooks. The waitress swings by with our meals. We chat about sports and movies, TV shows that we recently watched, and even Stella and Mac. Flack agrees with me that there is something between them. Something, but what?

"We're doing a promotion today," our waitress says, interrupting us. "We're trying out a new beer supplier. So, for today only, we are passing out shots for a free taste. You two big boys look thirsty." She places two shot glasses of beer on the table. Before I can decline the offer she disappears and starts her speech at another table.

"You can have mine," I say. Flack looks at me. "Mac doesn't like his team to drink. On or off the job."

"You went drinking last night," he states.

_Tell him why you went. Go on, I dare you to. Tell him._

"Well, yes, I did. But only because you asked. And anyway, I got caught and Mac was not happy. So you may have my free beer-shot."

Flack leans across the table. "How about neither one of us drinks them?"

He's leaning so close that I can smell his aftershave. It smells like heaven. He always smells like heaven. Of course, his job doesn't entail him to dig through trashcans. He leans a little closer. As close as he can with the table between us. My heart beats a little faster. What is he going to do?

Our waitress bumps into the table as a mother chases her young son around the restaurant. The bump shakes the table. It knocks over the alcohol. And most of it lands on me.

"Shit!" I stand to look at the beer soaking into my clothes. Flack looks at a loss as to what to do. "I have to go home and change," I say.

"Why? I'm sure if you explain to Mac what happened, he'll understand. Mac is a reasonable guy."

"I would rather just change. I'm sorry about the lunch," I apologize.

Flack opens his mouth to say something but my cell phone rings. I answer it hastily. If it's Mac I want him to know that I'm alert and focused on my job. It's Stella instead.

"Danny, we've got a break in our case. We'll meet you back at the lab. I think we figured out what that white substance was."

"Um, okay, I'll be there."

She hangs up. I look to see that Flack is no longer at the table. He's straightening out the bill with the waitress and the manager. Why is he talking to the manager? Is that really necessary? It was an accident.

_Flack will be pissed if he founds out that you were around alcohol after the talking her gave you earlier. Don't let him catch you, Danny._

My phone rings again as Flack comes back to the table. "The manager only made us pay for half the lunch. It's amazing what people will do for cops."

I smile and flip open my phone again. This time it is Mac. I must lose some color because Flack looks worried and I can see a question forming in his mind.

"Mac, what can I do for you?" I say. I hope that I sound normal. I don't want him to know that I'm in full panic mode. I need to get home and change before I see him. Will I have time though?

"Daniel Messer, get your ass back to the lab right now. You have some explaining to do. If you're not here in five minutes, consider yourself without a job."


	6. Falling Down

**Title: **Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer: **Angst. Serious slash. Violence. Character death.

_**Note: **Check my profile for an author note._

**

* * *

Chapter Five: Falling Down**

I bid Flack a quick farewell. He seems upset about something. What? The beer being spilled on me or the fact that our lunch didn't go so well? I want to apologize to him but Mac isn't happy. I have no idea what I did wrong. All I did was go get some lunch. When did that become a crime?

I make my way hastily back to the lab. No sense in keeping Mac waiting. It'll just make him worse. I should just go home and change. I reek of beer. Not good. Mac is going to fly off the handle. I just know it. Yet, I don't turn around. I enter the lab.

_One strike for being late. Two strikes for…for what? You're slipping, Danny-boy. Get the act together._

Making my way to Mac's office, I don't see anyone. Not Stella or Hawkes. Not even Lindsay. They know. They all know that Danny Messer has screwed up once again. Just more gossip for the lab. I reach the point of my demise. Mac is waiting in his office. He's pacing. That is not a good sign. I steel my spine and enter.

"Mac, I don't understand why you're so mad," I begin.

"Shut up and sit down."

Like an obedient dog, I sit. However, I don't shut up. "All I did was go out for a late lunch. Is that a crime?"

"No, it's not. Forgetting to lock up evidence is." His tone is real serious. What the hell did I do?

"Excuse me?"

He finally looks at me. "I have been told that Hawkes and Stella gave you a substance today; after I assigned you to their case. A substance that proved to be important. Do you remember what you did with it before you left for your late lunch?"

"I…I…" I don't want to say. I know what I did with it. "I left it on the table."

"Precisely. Now the case has been comprised." He resumes pacing.

"What? How? I left everything in the bag. I just didn't put it in the safe. Even if someone spilled something it should have been fine," I explain. I feel like Mac is just throwing out accusations.

"Oh, I agree, it should have been fine. Because it should have been locked up. Instead, someone tampered with it."

"Tampered with it?" Well, that was news to me. Kind of explains why Mac is so mad. After all, Aiden had just been fired for that reason. Hey, wait a minute. "I didn't do it, Mac. I swear."

"Is that true, Danny?" He asks.

He's doubting me? My own boss, someone I thought of us a friend? How could he? "Mac, we're talking about me. I have never messed up. Not like this."

He sighs and leans against his desk. "Danny, I don't know what to do with you."

_What's he going on about? Oh boy, you'll be joining Aiden in that job hunt of hers. Now what will you do for a career? You screwed up._

"Do with me? What are you talking about?" My heart beat begins to quicken. I'm going to panic soon. I love my job. I love being here. Nothing is more thrilling than solving the puzzle and putting the bad guy behind bars.

"Ever since Aiden left you have been a different person. You've become secretive and distant. With everyone. You go out drinking, get wasted, and come to work late. Now you forget to lock up evidence. That's not the Daniel Messer that I hired. Is there something going on?"

_Go ahead, tell him, he'll understand. Tell him how you have fallen for the detective. It's love. You can't ignore your heart._

I bite my tongue. I can't tell him. He'd never understand. None of them will. I don't even understand. "I'm sorry, Mac. I'm just dealing with a personal issue. I'll try not to let it interfere with my work again. Promise."

He stands. I stand. We walk to the office door. He grabs my arm. "One more thing, why do you smell alcohol?"

I knew that he would ask. It was only a matter of when. A CSI like Mac never misses a thing. That's why he is in charge.

"Someone spilled beer on me. Honest. Ask Flack. He missed lunch too, so we grabbed a bite together."

_Ha! Now he knows that you were with Flack. Idiot. Now he'll probably watch you closer. He'll do everything and just about anything to find out what's on your mind. _

He hesitates. "I'll just believe you on this one. You have an extra change of clothes in your locker, right?" I nod. "Go change. I don't want you walking around here smelling like that."

I slip away. It's not until I reach the locker room that I begin to breathe again. That was a lucky one. I can't believe I was dumb enough to leave evidence out. But who would tamper with it? Was their a mole in the lab? Or did someone manage to break-in? How were Hawkes and Stella dealing with this? Mac said it was important. The call, the one I received before Mac called, it pretty much said the same. I hit my head against the locker.

"Danny." It's Mac. Again. He's one of the only people that uses my first name. He's also the only one that ever calls me Daniel.

"Yes, sir?"

"You have a new assignment. A home invasion. Robbery." He hands me the information. "Oh," he says as he goes to leave, "stop calling me sir. I hate that."

Home invasion? Robbery? Great, a job usually given to level 1 CSI's just out of the academy. Mac really isn't pleased with me. I guess his trust toward me is waning a bit. Can I blame him? No. Everything he said in his office was true. I have been secretive. I did get wasted and I did forget to lock-up the evidence. I was slipping. Maybe this robbery was what I needed. No dead bodies. No exploited children. A break for my already tired mind.

* * *

The work day was finally over. I throw my keys on the table near my door. My head hurts. Nothing like working with a frantic woman. The home invasion, not the peace that I was looking for. Ms. Youngston was hysterical. She kept going on and on about how her ex had robbed her. She had no proof it was him. I didn't even have the proof. Not yet. I rub my arm where it hurts. Women should not be allowed to have such long nails. She was so scared that when I went to leave she grabbed me and wouldn't let go. The rookie cop had to pry her off. For her safety, and my sanity, I drove her to a motel near police headquarters.

I need to go for a run. I need to clear my head. I need the pain to go away. I change into a black T-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. I grab my keys and lock the door on my way out. The rain starts to fall just minutes after I leave. I don't care. I hardly notice it. I just want to run. The sidewalks are crowded with people in business suits and umbrellas. I dodge them as I go. I don't even care where I'm running to.

_Runaway, just runaway. Run from it all. Run from the confusion. The anger. Run from you mistakes. Just keep running and never look back. Life is easier this way. Just run._

I stop to catch my breath after a while. The rain is still coming down. It's soaked me. But I don't care. It's just water. Water that hasn't washed away the problems. I still hurt. I fold my arms across my chest and lean against the brick building behind me. I know why I ran here. I know this building.

He lives here.

_Go see him. The door man will let you in. You have your badge. You always do. Go on, you know you want to._

My badge works the doorman like a charm. He's eager to let me in. I guess he knows that Flack is a detective. He tells me what floor to go to and what apartment number I need. I make a mental note to tell Flack that the doorman knows a little more than he should and the he is all-too willing to give out the information. The elevator is quiet. No surprise. It's late. I begin to shiver. The dampness of my clothes has finally gotten to me.

With courage I didn't know I had, I walk up to the door with the number I was told. Flack is behind this door. It's the only thing between us. I knock. The second pass and feel more like hours. God, my head hurts. I want the pain to go away. I close my eyes, shielding them from the dimly lit hallway.

"Danny?"

When you concentrate hard enough, the pain goes away. The darkness takes it. The pain, it's gone…


	7. A Moment in Time

**Title: **Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer:** Slash. Violence. Angst. Character death.

**Author Note: **You wanted it! Review please…

**POV:** Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Six: A Moment in Time**

"Danny, what are you doing here?" Flack asks. He is standing in the doorway. When did he open the door?

"I…I…" I can't finish the sentence. My teeth are chattering. Why is the air conditioning on in this building?

Flack grabs my arm and pulls me into his place. It's nice. It didn't need a decorator. He did a great job. The whole place came together to make you feel warm and at home. My place was a little bare and boring. Flack walks around me, giving me a once over. The look on his face is a mix of amusement and worry.

"Um, Danny, didn't your mother ever tell not to go running in an autumn rain?"

I shrug. "I needed to get away. I need to clear my head."

"Well, did it work? 'Cause you just look really cold." He disappears into another room. I inhale deeply. The place smells like him. Why did I come here? Being here isn't going to help me any. I should leave. I should go home and sleep. I do have to work tomorrow.

"What, you going to ignore me, Messer?"

Flack is standing beside me. A towel and a pair of clothes in his hands. "Sorry, I think I spaced out. My head has been bothering me."

"Here," he says handing me the towel and the clothes. "You dry off and change. Then we'll see about getting some warm food into you." I hold the towel and the clothes. "Bathroom, that way," he says pointing.

I make my way to the small room. I sigh in relief. All the tension drains from my body. I take my time drying off and changing. The shirt and pants are a little too big for me but I don't care. I feel so good being dry. I feel warm. The warmth actually brings peace with it. A peace I haven't know for weeks now. It feels nice. I close my eyes. The pounding in my head slowly grows. Why won't it go away? I lean on the counter and gaze into the mirror.

_You're in his apartment. Wearing his clothes. He doesn't seem to mind having you here, Danny-boy. Maybe…_

A knock at the door makes me jump. "You alright in there?"

"Uh, fine. Be right out." Boy, that sounds stupid.

"Okay."

I start to feel nervous. The pounding in my head subsides for the time being. That's nice. I open the door and return myself to the living room. Flack isn't there. Where did he go?

"You want some soup or something?" He calls. The kitchen, duh, why didn't I think of that to begin with? Of course he wouldn't leave me alone in his apartment. He's too smart and cautious to do that.

"Did you hear me?"

"Huh?" It takes me a second to realize that I never answered him. "Oh, no, I'm fine. You don't need to cook for me."

He just sort of stares at me. "Man, you don't look too good. Maybe you should sit down."

He comes up behind me and moves me to the couch. He touches me. I feel myself blush a little. I can't believe this. I sink into the soft couch. My head stops pounding. He sits beside me. Ever so close. I can hear him breathing. In fact, all I hear is us. There's no TV. No radio. Nothing to cover up the silence; which quickly becomes awkward.

"Are you getting sick or something? Your looking pale. Plus, you did mention that your head hurt."

I shake my head slowly. "I think it's just stress. I'm dealing with a personal problem. It's causing me to mess up at work."

"Really? That reminds me, what did Mac want from you this afternoon?"

_He's comfortable around you. Take it easy, bud. You're just talking to a friend. Nothing more. A friend that you have strong feelings for._

"I fucked up some evidence. Just another strike against me this week." I sound so pitiful.

"Maybe you should ask for some time off."

"I should, but I won't. I can't. Mac is mad at me enough as it is. No need to make it worse. I probably just need a good night of sound sleeping," I say.

He's quiet. I don't have to look at him to know that he's looking at me. Having his gaze locked on me makes the butterflies in my stomach act up. Aren't we supposed to grow out of this as we get older? Despite my chill I feel as though I'm sweating. I shouldn't have come here. I should have just run back to my place. It would have been better.

"Hmm, so, what's this personal problem? You want to talk about it?"

No, I don't want to talk about it. Not with you. You are the problem. "At the moment, no, not really. But thanks for the offer."

"I wonder," he mumbles. "Look at me, Danny."

"Hmm?" I turn to him.

He places his hands on my cheeks. I find it a little weird. My mind races as to what he's doing. Then his lips brush against mine. My breath catches in my throat. What is he doing? I feel my cheeks as they warm with a blush. He pulls away. But only slightly.

"Why…?"

"Your attitude gave you away, Danny-boy. The way you've been trying not to look at me. I even noticed the change in your mood when I was around. Forgive me for saying this but you've even seemed a little needy lately," he explains.

"Needy? Sheesh, thanks."

"When you called me for that late lunch today, I was glad to hear your voice. You want to know a secret? I had already eaten lunch. The idea of being with you for a while though, I didn't care. I said yes."

"Why?" I kind of feel like a broken record. My mind is still reeling with what he did. His warm hands are still on my cheeks.

"You're not the only one who has personal problems. Not lately. I figured…you know…" he trails off.

"I'm not alone?" I ask.

"No," he whispers.

He leans in again. This time I'm ready. The kiss is deeper than the first one. I feel the well-talked-about fireworks as the world around us vanishes. All I feel is him. His warms hands on my cheeks. His lips on mine. His body close to mine. I've hungered for it. I've dreamed of it. Now I have it and I want more. Like all good things though, the kiss comes to an end.

_Wow._

He sits back against the couch. Not looking at me. I can see he's a bit flustered and there's a hint of blush to cheeks. I feel like I'm flying so high. Now I know why I ran here. I'm happy I ran here. I don't want to be anywhere else.

The glint of metal of the side-table brings me crashing back down to earth. Saddened, I lay my head against his chest. At first, he's unsure of what to do. Then I feel his strong arms wrap around me. I feel like crying. This is all I have wanted. Now I have it and I can't keep it.

"We can't do this," I say breaking the silence.

"Why not?" His tone is soft.

"We work together."

"Technically, yes. But, so? We're only working together if we get the same case. Otherwise…"

"What about them? What if they find out?"

He chuckles ever so softly. "Danny, you worry too much. No wonder why your head hurts. Just let life take you where you're meant to be. Forget about them."

We fall into a comfortable silence again. I listen to his heart beating. The rhythm is so nice. I see too many dead people in my job. It's nice to hear the sounds of a living one.

"Danny?"

"Hmm?"

"You're falling asleep," he says.

"Sorry," I mumble.

"Don't worry about it."

I hear him put his feet up on the coffee table. I should move. I should go home. He shouldn't have to sleep like this. Yet, he makes no attempt to move. And I feel so safe. Finally finding the peace I have been longing for.

"Flack?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." He doesn't say anything in return. He just tightens his grip. I don't even think about the coming morning as I drift off to sleep. Wrapped in the arms of the one I love.


	8. Mistakes Are Made

**Title:** Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer: **Serious slash. Major angst. Violence. Language. Character death.

_**Author Note: Check Profile.**_

**POV:** Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Seven: Mistakes Are Made**

I wake at five the next morning. My back is sore from sleeping in an uncomfortable position. At first, I don't remember where I am. But the arm around me reminds me that I'm with Flack. I slept at his place. He let me. Hell, we kissed. Boy, things sure have changed.

I rouse myself from the couch. Flack is still sleeping. Should I wake him? Does he work today? I gaze around the apartment. Flack must be awakened. I have no clothes here and I can't go to work in the clothes Flack loaned me or my jogging clothes. I could just jog back to my place but I don't have that much time.

I can't be late for work. Mac will kill me. I've screwed up too much this week already. So the decision is made.

I shake him a little. "Flack, hey, wake up." His eyes slowly open.

He smiles. "Morning, Danny-boy. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, did you? I'm sorry. You should have been able to sleep in your bed."

He gets up and stretches. "No problem. It was rather nice." He smiles again. "I guess we can have breakfast together."

"Well," I reply while putting my glasses on, "I need to get home. I have to shower and change before work. So it'll have to be breakfast on the go."

"You can shower here." It takes him a second to realize my dilemma. "Oh, you have no clothes here. Just let me change and I'll take you back to your place."

"Aren't you going to shower?" I call after him.

"Nope. I do that after work."

I sit on the couch while Flack changes. We'll be going to work together. Will anyone notice? Will they care? I hope Mac doesn't think that we were out drinking again. Never again, I swear. I can make up a lie. He won't believe me but it's all I can do. I can't tell him the truth.

Flack comes out wearing, as usual, a nice suit. I think how annoying it must be. He doesn't have to wear them but seems to prefer to. Maybe he gets more respect in a suit. Who knows? Maybe he just likes to wear them.

_Does it matter? They always look good on him. He looks good in everything…and nothing._

The drive back to my house is taken in silence. I spend the time setting my day in order. I have a case to wrap up. The faster, the better. I want Mac to see that I'm still serious about my job. Maybe than he'll take it a little easier on me. I can't help but wonder what Flack is thinking about. Yesterday he did nothing but paperwork. He's probably itching to get out in the field. All of us enjoy being in the field, no matter how gruesome or disturbing the job. We love putting those bad guys behind bars. Who wouldn't?

When we get to my place I run upstairs alone to quickly shower and change. Flack waits for me downstairs. When I finally return he's on the phone. He wraps up the call and turns to me, a big smile on his face.

"What?" I ask.

"You working a home invasion?"

"Yes," I nod.

"Your rookie cop is off the case. His wife is in labor so he's not going to be at work for a while. I just got assigned to your case."

I can't help but feel happy. Almost giddy. I get to work the day with Flack. What could go wrong?

* * *

It's been three hours since work started. Flack and I parted ways, for now. I have yet to see Hawkes and Stella today. I did run into Lindsay. And I'm sure Mac will appear at some point. He has to check up on me, his problem child. 

The thought finishes crossing my mind when the door opens. It's Mac. What a surprise.

"In a good mood today, Messer?"

"Hm? Why do you ask?" I look up from the evidence on the table in front of me.

"I was just talking to Lindsay. Seems you surprised her today. You actually had a civilized conversation with her," he says.

"Oh, that, well, we work together. I figure I should at least get to know her."

He smiles. "That's good. I am not that big on having two of my CSI's at each other's throats. She's not Aiden, but please continue being nice. Maybe you two will work a case together soon. Speaking of which, how is the home invasion going?"

"Splendid. I'm going back to the scene in a few minutes. I want to make sure I didn't miss something when the victim was there. She made the job hard to do."

He nods in approval. "Living victims can be harder to deal with than the dead."

We part ways. I pull out my cell phone and give Flack a ring.

"Detective Flack."

"Hey, I need to go back to the crime scene. Want to meet me there?"

"Sure, I've got the address right here. See you in a few minutes."

The click of the line going dead is his good-bye. Seems a bit cold. Is he mad at me? I shake my head. One step forward and two steps back; such is life, right? I grab my kit and climb into the crime-issued SUV. The radio grates on my nerves so I turn it off. Music is merely background noise and nothing more.

Flack is waiting at the crime scene when I get there. Damn, he's quick. I close my eyes and relax. I shouldn't be nervous. I spent the night in his arms. Working with him should be easy. Right? So why do I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach?

We enter the crime scene; the penthouse apartment of a building. It's quiet today. No screaming frantic woman. No one pulling at my sleeve and digging their nails into my arm. Going over the scene should be easy today. Easy and quick.

"Anything you want me to do?" Flack asks.

"If you want, you can unplug the computer in her office and put it by the front door," I reply.

"Okay. Do you have an extra pair of gloves?"

"In my kit." I'm busy snapping pictures and am only half listening to him. He mumbles something and disappears.

All CSI's have at least one officer with them while at a crime scene. It was made an official law earlier in the year. After a CSI was gunned down in Vegas because she was processing a scene all alone. Sometimes, having the office there was annoying. Other times, it was greatly appreciated. Some crime scenes were just unsafe. Lucky for me, I get the best detective the NYPD has.

I hear Flack moving the computer around. It was nice of him to offer his help. I hope Mac doesn't find out.

_Negative Nelly. Shut up and just do your job. Follow the rules and be cautious. Nothing will go wrong._

A streak of graffiti on the hallway wall catches my eye. I don't remember seeing it yesterday. It wasn't there. Was it? I enter into the hallway. The graffiti is at the end, going into the living room. I step back to get it into focus. Still too big. So I step back again. Just a little farther…

A shot rings out. At the same time I slip and fall backwards. My head hits the floor hard. I bite my tongue and my mouth fills with blood. The camera lays on the floor beside me. Broken. A growing pain in my side intensifies. What the hell happened?

"Danny?" Flack yells. Is he panicking? I can't hear him that well. "Danny?"

I hear his footsteps. He's closer to finding me. Why do I feel warm? My head throbs. I try to sit up. My hands touch something warm. Blood. I slip again. At least this time I don't hit my head. Where is Flack?

"Danny, answer me." I just close my eyes. How my head hurts. I can't stand the throbbing pain anymore. "Messer, this isn't funny!"

Who's having fun? I turn my head to the side and spit the blood out. I hear Flack making calls on his radio. Something about a CSI being down. Why is he mumbling? I close my eyes and wish for the pain to go away. And there's the darkness, waiting for me. Wrapping me in its cold embrace.


	9. How We Hurt

**Title: **Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer: **Violence. Slash. Language. Character death. Angst.

**POV: **Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Eight: How We Hurt**

"You didn't lose a lot of blood. You should be fine. The bullet grazed you. We stitched up the wound and, avoiding infection, it should heal up nicely," the doctor rambles. "As for the knock to the head, I recommend that you stay off your feet for a while. You have a slight concussion. I would like you to stay the night. Maybe run a few more tests."

"Why? You just said that I would be fine."

He looks over his shoulder. "Your friend says that you've been complaining about head pains. I feel that we should make sure everything is okay."

I shake my head. "No thanks. It's just headaches. Nothing more."

"Sir, please-"

"No," I say.

I get up off the hospital bed and begin to button up my shirt. The doctor leaves with a look of defeat and disgust on his face. Fuck him. I hate being in hospitals. Too bright and white. The worst thing about a hospital isn't even the food. It's the smell. The smell of cleaning supplies, food, flowers, and the sickly. Not very pleasant.

Flack walks over to me. There's blood on his suit. Probably matches the blood on my shirt.

"You should put that back on. It looks gross," he states.

I shrug. "I don't feel like walking around topless. The blood is dried anyway."

"I'm just glad that most of it isn't yours."

I make my way out of the hospital. Flack close behind. I can't even begin to count my lucky stars. Who would have guessed that a murderer was hiding at the crime scene? When I stepped backward I slipped in a pool of blood. Just at the exact moment that the perp fired their gun. Someone must have been watching over me. If only I hadn't hit my head.

"Danny."

"Hmm?" I turn to look back at Flack. He nods towards the exit. Standing by the door is Lindsay. "What is she doing here?"

"Beats me. Maybe you should ask her," Flack says.

"No," I reply shortly. Despite the medication my body still hurts. My head is still throbbing. I am not in the mood to be nice. I just want to go home and sleep in a dark room.

Lindsay doesn't move from her spot until we get closer. I ignore the stares of all the people in the emergency room. It's not every day that you see a man with a gun accompanied by a cop. Both covered in blood.

"How are you feeling, Danny?" Lindsay questions.

"Like a fucking peach. What do you want?" I know I should be nice. It's not her fault that this happened.

She looks hurt. "Mac needed someone to pick you up. I volunteered."

Why would she volunteer? We aren't even friends. "Flack is here. He can take me home."

She chews her bottom lip. "Sorry, Danny. But Mac wants you back at the lab." A look of worry crosses her face. "Flack has been asked to report back to the precinct."

We exchange glances. Over course, we need to explain to the higher-ups what happened.

"Can't Mac see me tomorrow?"

Lindsay shakes her head. "He said he wanted to see you as soon as possible. Even if it meant coming down to the hospital."

A battle I just can't win. The room is slightly spinning. Lindsay doesn't look so good. She seems upset that she came. I haven't exactly been nice. Flack hands me his sunglasses before we exist the building. Even with them on the sun is too much for me. I curse under my breath as I climb into the SUV. Flack just stands by the door as we pull away.

* * *

My wanders back to the young woman. How panicked she was that night. Just another case that I was working on. I sit in the uncomfortably stiff chair. It's hard not to sit back. I don't want to. Every time I do I feel the dried blood on the back of my shirt. I wish I had been given time to change. A glance over my shoulder shows my boss outside talking with Stella. Why haven't those two jumped each other yet? The attraction and sexual energy is obvious. Is it so wrong to answer those urges? 

Stella quickly glances in my direction. There's a slight smile on her face. Why? Maybe she is just happy that I'm okay. Physically okay, anyway. Mac doesn't look happy, though, as he enters his office. I close my eyes. I know what is coming. I can hear the words and Mac hasn't even opened his mouth.

"Mac, I'm sorry. Please-"

He puts his hand up. "Just listen to me Danny." I shut my mouth. "You have seriously compromised this investigation. We may not be able to catch the perp. Now, I have talked things over with those in charge and they decided that I have the right to choose what happens to you."

He doesn't even seem the least bit concerned about me. The beat of my heart quickens. "I'm fired, aren't I?"

His face doesn't change. It's a loss of emotions. I wonder what would happen if I groveled? Would it save my job? At least if my job was over I would have my relationship. It wouldn't be a problem anymore. I realize that Mac is staring at me. Did he say something and he's waiting for a reply?

He places a case folder in the ever-growing pile on his desk. "No, you are not fired. However, you are on probation. You have been making a few too many mistakes, Danny. Screw up again and you're out. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're excused, you may leave now." He gestures to the door with his hand. I don't move as he flips open a different case file. He looks up when he realizes that I haven't budged.

"Is there something you want, Danny?"

"What about Flack?"

He sighs. "Detective Flack is not my problem. If his boss wants to fire him, than he can do so. I have no say in the matter." The tone of his voice told me that I had better leave or risk his temper.

I quickly remove myself from his office. That wasn't so bad. At least I still had my job. But what happened to Flack? Would they actually fire him? He was a good, no, great detective. I shake my head. How did I let this all happen? Too many lives have been affected because of my stupidity.

I bump into Hawkes, literally. He's walking backwards with a gurney between him and the new CSI, Lindsay. I haven't really talked with Lindsay. I was unhappy with Aiden being fired. Evidence tampering was, and is, bad, though. It is a serious crime. How horrible it would have been to be fired just a few months after Aiden had gone.

"So, do you still have a job?" Hawkes asks.

"Yes, unless I screw up again."

Lindsay stays quiet. She probably won't ever talk to me again. Not after the way I treated her at the hospital. "Guess you better be careful. Mac will be watching you like a hawk now, Danny," Hawkes warns.

"Hey, Daniel Messer, you have a visitor in the lobby. Some guy," a brunette in a lab coat tells me.

"Uh, guess I better go see who it is."

"We should be getting this body to the morgue anyway. Remember, be careful." Hawkes and Lindsay resume wheeling the dead person off to the morgue. Better them than me. The new morgue attendant gave me the creeps.

Flack was standing in the corner of the lobby. This was highly unusual. Why did he have to get someone to fetch me? He usually just walked into the lab. I'm a little jealous when I see that he has had time to change. No more blood-covered clothes for him. Must be nice.

"Flack?"

He turns to me. "Hey, Danny-boy. We need to talk."

I notice that something is off. Something in his voice. "Let's take it outside. Too many people here."

We mutually agree and step outside. Without talking we walk to the corner. Will Mac be mad that I met with Flack? I stop. Everything about Flack's mood is disturbing.

"What's going on? Why didn't you come and get me yourself?" I ask.

He looks at me with those amazing blue eyes of his. "I couldn't. Danny, they took my badge."

"What?" I don't believe what I'm hearing.

"It's just while they reviews things. I really messed up."

"No you didn't," I protest.

"They think that I was busy tampering with evidence instead of keeping an eye on you. Until the board hearing, I don't have my badge or gun. I can't even consider myself a detective anymore." He looks upset. This is all my fault. I knew better than to let him help. But I let him. Now look where we stand.

"I'll tell them that I let you move the computer. That it was my idea. I was the one who also wondered away without checking to make sure the building was secure."

We stood in silence for a few minutes. How had life gone this way? It was just one stupid mistake. One goddamn mistake. Now Flack stands to lose his job and I, well, I don't know where I stand. My phone rings. Mac calling to tell me lord only knows what. I answer it.

"Danny, I need to see you again. There is something that needs discussing. I'll see you in my office."

The phone clicks. No hellos or good-byes. Not even a chance to say a word. Why do I feel like a dog on a leash? Flack gives me knowing look. He understands. I see the pain in his eyes. I can tell that he's trying to hide it. Maybe we can talk later. Maybe I'll stay at his place again. But for now, I have to answer Mac.

I go to bid Flack farewell. In a moment of impulse, he kisses me. Right there, on the sidewalk. Where everyone and anyone can see. Little do I know that one of the people who sees it is Lindsay.


	10. Hiding the Pain

**Title**: Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer**: Slash. Angst. Language. Violence. Character death.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Nine: Hiding the Pain **

The lab is quiet. It's always quiet when the others go out in the field. I glare at the evidence on the table in front of me. Stuck in this prison. Alone. My side hurts. The nerves are sending waves of pain to my brain and yet, at the same time, they want me to scratch the area. I hate healing wounds. I hate almost getting shot. Things could have been worse.

My head begins to throb again. I really wish I hadn't hit it. Maybe I should have stayed at the hospital when the doctor requested it. My head has been bothering me for weeks. Probably just stress related. The evidence in front of me goes fuzzy as my vision blurs. I take my glasses off to rub my eyes. I should take my medication. But for some reason, I don't. I don't put my glasses back on. I set them on the table next to the evidence and just close my eyes. Soon I will be able to go home. Soon I will be able to lie down and stare into the dark of my empty apartment. I think back to earlier in the day. To the last talk that I had with Mac.

_"Daniel, I've been informed that you took a hit to the head," Mac starts._

_"Yes, but I feel fine."_

_"All the same. I don't want you out in the field for a week or so. Just to make sure that you're okay. A hit to the head is pretty serious and should not be taken lightly."_

_"Okay. I can deal with that. I'll process evidence for everyone."_

_"Your hours are going to change for a short time too. I don't want you in until nine in the morning and you're off at three in the afternoon. I will not have you working long days since you will be medicated," he explains. "I would just give you the time off but the whole department is busy and I can't afford to lose one of my CSI's."_

_"I understand. It's all fine with me." I go to leave._

_"Wait, Danny, there is one more thing," Mac says. His tone is serious. What is he going to tell me now? I am so tired of being in his office. I've been in so many times this week that I can tell when things have been moved; even if only by millimeters. "You are not to see Flack while you are on duty. Not even for lunch."_

_I can't help but scowl. "What? Why?"_

_Mac sighs. "I'm sorry, Danny. I realize that you two are friends but it's really the best option. Flack is on a leave of absence until the police-board can figure out what to do with him. Until then, he's not legally allowed in the lab. Plus," he says crossing his arms, "it wouldn't look good. Flack is under suspicion for tampering with evidence. It's best if he not be seen with any CSI's."_

_"Mac-"_

_"You may spend time with him while you are off work. I don't care. But I do not want to see him around the lab. Got it?"_

Of course, I had to agree. What choice did I really have in the matter? So I couldn't see Flack for most of the day. That isn't really a problem. Unless of course I run out of evidence to process. But with homicides and petty crimes keeping everyone out in the field for hours, I doubt I'll run out of fun substances to play with.

I put my glasses back on and resume piecing together a shredded note given to me by Mac. One of my least favorite things to do. It always takes hours to do and in that time I could have gotten something important done. By then again, the note could break the case.

I must lose track of time. Mac taps me on the shoulder, which makes me jump. "It's after three, you should be home by now," he says.

"I know," I mumble. What a lie. I didn't even notice the time. "But I've almost got this thing together. Would it be alright if I stay and finish it?" I can't help feeling like a little kid asking daddy to let me stay up an extra hour.

Mac actually gives in. "If it doesn't take you any longer than four-thirty."

"Thanks." I can't believe that he gave in. He's been riding my ass all week. It's nice to finally see a glimmer of my old boss.

* * *

Four-thirty comes and goes. The stupid note still isn't done. I carefully slip it into a bag, making sure to keep the pieces together. I gather up the rest of the evidence on the table and place it inside the safe. I won't make the same mistake twice. My cell phone rings as I'm leaving the building. Caller ID tells me that it's Flack. I don't answer it. I don't feel like I can speak to him. Not just yet. 

On the ride home my phone beeps to let me know that I have a voice mail. I know it's from Flack. I delete the voice mail without listening to it. I just want to sleep. To give into the medication and leave the world behind. At least for a few hours.

My apartment is dark, empty, and silent. Just the way I want it to be tonight. The sun is setting fast. Night is willingly growing. I toss my keys and my cell phone on the couch. I go through the motions of showering and changing like a robot. My mind in a haze the entire time. Finally, I sit on my bed. The pain pills and a bottle of water glare at me from the bedside table. I lay down, my back to them.

Outside my window the city buzzes on. People getting off work to go home to their families. To have dinner. Maybe getting off work and going out to some club. Grab a drink or two. Perhaps going on a date. But inside, it's dark and quiet. A shell with nothing inside.

I sigh and lay on my back. The ceiling confronts me with its nothingness. My bed is big and empty. I feel empty. Wonder what Flack is doing now. He's probably at home watching TV wondering what I'm doing. Does he even think of me? Sure, he called earlier. But just once. Why didn't he call again when I didn't answer? Why hasn't he called my home phone or come to my door?

I pop a pain pill. Just to chase away conscience-ness. As the pain fades I drift off to sleep. My dreams don't comfort me. There's only one thing that can…


	11. Longing for Your Touch

**Title:** Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer:** Slash. Violence. Language. Angst. Character death.

**POV: **Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Ten: Longing For Your Touch**

The sun is bright in my eyes. I roll over, my back to the window. My alarm goes off. Another day of work. A day without Flack. Another day for Mac to yell at me. Should I even bother to get up? Will it be worth the time? The alarm continues its shrill music. I slap the snooze button and slowly get out of bed. My side feels like fire. I don't hesitate to take a pill. Too bad it won't make my head feel better.

I stand in the shower just letting the hot water wash over me. It feels so good. I turn the knob and the water gets hotter. My skin turns red. I hear the ringing of my cell phone as I get out of the shower. I know the ring-tone. It's the one I programmed for Flack. I don't answer. If I talk to him, I'll want to see him. And I can't see him. Not when I need to be working.

At the lab I keep to myself. I don't return the receptions greeting of a good morning. How can it be a good morning? I feel more confused about things than I did before. Before, all I wanted was to be with Flack. Every moment of every day I thought about him. Now I wanted to avoid him. All for my job. A job that could get me killed tomorrow.

"Hey, you okay, Danny?"

I look to my side. Hawkes has fallen into step beside me. "I'm fine," I lie. "Why do you ask?"

"You just seem sort of lost to me, that's all."

I fake a smile. "Just thinking about how I'd rather be in the field than stuck in here processing evidence for everyone else."

"Does kind of suck, doesn't it? But you'll be better before you know it. Maybe Mac will stick us together on the next case. He can work with Stella."

I chuckle. "Not enjoying the experience are you?"

"Don't tell her I said this but she can be a bit bossy. You'd think she was in charge and not Mac. Gets a little annoying at times. Even Mac doesn't make me do every little thing."

"I know. I've been there. It's nice to have someone to share the pain with," I joke. Stella is standing a few feet away. It doesn't appear as though she heard us.

_Of course she didn't hear you. She's on the phone again. Always on the phone lately. Why isn't Mac getting on her case?_

Hawkes gives me a look that says "save me" before he catches up with Stella. My stomach growls reminding me that I skipped breakfast. I detour to the break-room. A little snack and then off to work. To process evidence while everyone else has fun actually solving cases.

I grab an apple from the bowl on the table.

"Guess I'm not the only one who missed breakfast."

I roll my eyes. "Guess not," I reply as I turn to Lindsay.

She smiles. "You look good today, Danny."

I can't help feeling a bit weird. Lindsay and I aren't close. I haven't been nice to her in any way. Yet, she treats me like her closest friend. Why? I don't deserve it. I notice the soft smile on her face as she grabs an orange.

"Erm, thanks."

_Maybe she's hitting on you. How weird would that be?_

"I'll be joining you in the lab today. Mac wants me to process a few things."

I scowl. "I don't need help. I can process the evidence for you."

She looks a little hurt that I don't want her company. There I go again. "I'm not going to help you," she says. "Mac knows that you have a lot of evidence. He figured it would be better if I did the stuff for our case. Since it involves a judge."

How nice. She gets to work a high profile case. I get to sit around like a lost dog. I bite my tongue to keep from being rude. "Whatever," I mumble.

She opens her mouth to say something when my cell-phone goes off. I make a show of looking at the caller ID. Even though I know that it's Flack. I just let the phone ring. Lindsay doesn't say anything. Unfinished, I throw my apple in the trash.

"See you in the lab."

I leave her standing there. The chirping of my phone alerts me to my voice mail. Most likely from Flack. I see Mac talking to a detective at the end of the hallway. This causes me to pause. The detective is questioning him. I can tell from the way he's standing. The way he keeps looking at Mac.

Lindsay comes up beside me. Her gazing following mine. "He's being questioned about Flack. Everyone is."

I do my best to act indifferent. Yet, deep inside, I'm worried. Last time we talked Mac wasn't happy with Flack. Would he make Flack sound bad? No, that wouldn't be like him. That wouldn't be professional. So Flack messed up once. It happens to everyone. I pull on my white lab coat and dive into my work. It's best to just ignore the detective.

Lindsay joins me after about a half-hour. I don't need to ask her where she was. I already know. I saw her with the detective. What could he possibly want from her? She has not been here long enough to know Flack. I sigh. The pounding in my head has been there all day. Slowly growing with each hour.

I pull the bottle of pain meds from my pocket. I took one when I got up. And though I've only been at work for about two or three hours, I've already taken two more pills. Would another one hurt? I see Lindsay staring at me. So I quickly put the pills back in my pocket. She might tell Mac that I was in a lot of pain. Then he would make me take time off, short-handed or not.

Silence fills the room.

"So, have you always lived in New York?" Lindsay asks.

"Uh huh," I mumble. I try to pretend that I'm busy with work. When in reality, I don't feel like chatting. Why be friends?

"It's a major change from my home state. I think I'm getting used to it, though. The job is a tiny bit more challenging. No bear maulings here. That's for sure."

My cell phone begins to ring again. Lindsay looks up from the pile of clothes she is supposed to be processing. I move to shut my phone off.

"Why won't you answer that?" She asks. Why does she think it's her business?

"It's not important, that's why."

"You're wrong," she says. There's a slight fire burning in her eyes. What is wrong with her?

"Excuse me?" It's all I can say.

She blushes ever so slightly. "I'm an investigator. I notice things. That ring-tone always sounds when Flack is calling you. He's been calling you all morning."

_Quick, think up a lie. Anything. She can't know why you're really avoiding Flack._

"Mac told me not to talk with him while I'm working. Not until he gets his badge back. Or loses it." I say the last sentence without really thinking. What would happen if he really lost his badge? How would it affect him? Us?

_Hold up buddy! You're assuming there's an "us". You know what they say when you assume; you make an ass of you and me._

"Erm." Her blush deepens. "Leave, Danny. Go. I'll cover for you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" The throbbing in my head is getting worse. Is it because of Lindsay? She's not making any sense.

She looks down. "I saw you two. The other day. On the sidewalk." On the sidewalk? "Kissing."

I drop the glass tube that I was holding. I hear the glass break. A voice in the back of my mind tells me that the evidence is no longer any good. That Mac is going to fire me. I don't hear it. How can I? The pounding in my head has grown. Lindsay knows. She saw us. Has she told anyone? I'll most likely lose my job. It won't be tolerated. Will it?

_You haven't said anything, stupid. Say something, damnit!_

I can't say anything. What can I possibly say? There's no excuse to cover the truth. She saw us. Plain and simple. Now she knows.

"Danny?" Her voice is filled with concern. "Danny? Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"I…" Speechless.

_Idiot._

"Danny, it's obvious that he loves you. He wouldn't keep calling you if he didn't. He put his career on the line for good by kissing you on the sidewalk. Go to him. Don't stay here. I'll cover for you. Please, go."

I look up to see her smiling. In that instant I know that everything she says is true. Flack loves me. He hasn't said it, but it's there. The sentiment. All of it. Just not the words. The ache that has been inside for so long manifests itself. I have to go. I have to leave. To see him. I stand to leave. Working like a robot again.

"Uh, thank you," I manage. I leave. Not even caring that I might lose my job. I don't even say anything. I just leave.

I run.

To him.


	12. Symphony

**Title: **Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer: **Slash. Violence. Angst. Language. Character death.

**POV: **Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Symphony**

I bang on the apartment door. He has to be home. Please, let him be home. The door opens. There he stands. He looks as good as ever. His blue jeans and black T-shirt are such a change from the suits he wears to work. I take it all in.

"Danny? Are you okay? You're out of breath." He gives me a half smile. "You didn't run here again, did you?"

I don't say a word. Instead, I wrap my arms around him. He seems slightly surprised. I kiss him. I feel his arms around me. That's what I want. What I need. We stand there, in the doorway, kissing. I really don't care who sees us. It doesn't matter anymore. With Flack is where I belong.

Flack pulls away and closes the door. I manage to catch my breath. Yet, my heart is still racing. My head still hurts, too. I promptly sit on the couch. I can feel Flack watching me. Every move I make, he follows. I like it. And at the same time, it bugs me. Why can't I just enjoy it?

"Earth to Danny. You're acting weird." He sits down beside me. "Something on your mind?"

"Yes, you." That's all I say. I don't know what I'm expecting Flack to do. But the reaction I get is not exactly what I am hoping for.

"Really? You've been ignoring my calls since yesterday. I think something, or someone, else is on your mind."

I frown. "No. Only you. It's always you. I can't even work without thinking about you. I thought things would get better after we kissed. But no, they haven't changed. I'm still so confused."

He rests an arm on the back of the couch. "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying. If something wasn't bothering you, you would have answered my calls. At least, I would like to think that you would."

I lean forward, placing my elbows on my knees.

_Leaning away from him…_

"I can't see you, Flack. Not at work or while I'm on duty. Mac won't allow it. Not until you get your badge back. I figured if I ignored your calls it would make the days easy to get through. I was wrong." I chew my bottom lip. "I'm sorry."

"Danny." Flack pulls me close to him. I can hear his heart beating. Its rhythm matching mine. Two hearts lost together in time.

I sit up. "May I take a shower?"

Flack gives me an odd look. "Excuse me?"

"I want to wash away work. May I use your shower?"

"Um, sure. I don't see why not. Go for it. Maybe you'll feel better when you're done."

I kiss him on the cheek and leave. I close the door behind me. I start the water in the shower. The sound of it soothes the throbbing in my head. Had it done that earlier? When I showered this morning? I gaze at myself in the quickly fogging mirror. I look like me. The cool, calm Danny. So why don't I feel that way inside?

I step under the water. It burns but I don't care. I want to burn away the world. The confusion of life. Why can't my heart let me be? Why can't I understand this all?

_The heart understands what the brain cannot._

Not wanting to keep Flack waiting or to waste too much water, I get out. I realize that I don't have any non-work clothes to change into. What will I do now? Maybe Flack will loan me something. He did last time. When I came here wet from jogging in the rain. I quickly towel dry myself. I tie the towel around my waist. Aware that it's all I have.

I leave the bathroom.

"Feeling better? 'Cause you definitely look better." Flack steps out of the kitchen. I can see him looking me up and down. All I have is a towel. A mere piece of cloth.

"Um," I can feel myself blushing. What an idiot! I should have thought about the whole clothing situation before I got in the shower.

"Danny."

Flack is standing in front of me. So close. The pure and simple thought of him makes my heart beat faster. He takes my hands in his. The gentleness of his touch is enough to tear my soul apart inside. His lips claim mine. I return the kiss and deepen it. He responds with the same overwhelming yet calm passion. I wrap my arms around his neck to show the longing I have for him. He draws my barely clad body closer and presses his chest against mine. His nearness is overpowering, almost devastating.

_To be so close to him._

A hunger begins to grow inside me. I want him in ways I never thought I would. I want to hold him forever. To become a part of him. Judging by the way that his hands are exploring my upper body, I would say that Flack feels the same. We stumble into his bedroom. Our bodies never really parting. He pushes my towel-clad body on to the bed.

_Submissive…_

I have no problem with him being in charge. I want him to lead the way. I don't have the power to make the move. Not to go there. But I'll go with him. I want him. And yet, we can't do this. It's not right. We work together. What will the others say if they ever find out? Will they judge us because of the way we love? Why is the world against such love? Why can't love just be love?

I fall back on my elbows. Flack leans over me, resting his hands on either side of me. His kisses release the secret of his desire. I can feel him. Every part of his body. A body that I want to hang on to for all eternity. Out of nowhere I think of Mac. I should be at work. He's probably pissed that I'm not there. Lindsay said she'd cover for me. I was only supposed to be gone for an hour. An hour with Flack is not enough. Eternity wouldn't be long enough.

I lay back on the bed. The comforter soft under my warm body. Flack kisses my neck. He hasn't said anything. He's just going with the feeling. Is this why I came here? His lips touch my chest. He tugs gently at the towel. Something is wrong. This doesn't feel right.

_Danny…_

I feel him slip a hand under the towel. My temperature rises. I try to concentrate on what's going on. But something is wrong. There's a slight ringing in my ears. Is it from a phone? No, the sound grows louder. The ceiling above the bed begins to blur. This isn't good.

_Danny…_

"Flack," I mumble. Do I actually say his name or do I just think it? The warmth is ripped from my body and I'm left feeling so cold. Something is so terribly wrong.

I feel Flack as he places a hand on my cheek. "Danny?" He sounds deeply concerned. "Danny, are you okay?"

"No," I groan in agony. "My head hurts."

"Danny-"

"Make it go away," I mutter.

"How bad is it?" He asks.

"It feels like someone is drilling a hole in my head." I close my eyes. "The room is blurry and…"

"Danny?" Flack is close to panicking.

"…I can hardly hear you," I whisper.

"I'm calling for an ambulance."

He sounds so very far away. Don't go away, Flack. Stay with me. I feel him move. Taking the warmth of his body away from me. I turn to my side and curl up in the fetal position. I hold my head in my arms as the pain grows. Why now? Why this pain? Why won't it go away? I bite my tongue to keep from screaming as the pain hits me full force.

* * *

"Open your eyes, Danny. Please…" A pleading voice. A gentle squeeze of my hand. The smell of Flack. I open my eyes only to be blinded by the stark whiteness. The hospital. I'm back at the fucking hospital. What now? 

"Finally, I was beginning to think you'd never get up."

I shield my eyes from the glare of lights. Flack is standing off to my side. His beautiful blue eyes are clouded. I don't feel like I'm hooked up to anything. That's good, right? Flack puts out his hand.

"Here, let's sit you up."

He helps me to sit up on the hospital bed. The room spins but only for a second. The pain in my head is gone. My hearing is back and so is my vision. I rub a hand on my forehead. My body is covered in a thin layer of sweat.

"What happened?" I ask.

Flack shrugs. "I haven't a clue. By the time the ambulance showed up, you had passed out."

"Did the doctors find out why?"

Flack looks troubled. "No, they didn't. They say that everything seems fine. The cut in your side is healing nicely. They think you may have just over done things after you took that hit to the head. You shouldn't have been at work, Danny."

I ignore his last remark. "If nothing is wrong, I'm going home. I hate hospitals."

"Are you sure you want to go back to your place?"

I think for a second. "Yes," I answer. Disappointment flashes across his face. I want to be with him. But not like this.

We walk down the corridor. People aren't staring like last time. There's no blood. No fascination. I wipe my sweaty hand on my shirt. Wait, my shirt? I hadn't even thought about being dressed. I look down. I'm back in my work clothes. How? Flack said I passed out.

_Flack dressed you. He got to see yours but you haven't seen his. Yet._


	13. Goodbye

**Title:** Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer:** Slash. Violence. Angst. Language. Character death.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Goodbye **

The lab has been quiet most of the morning. I saw Mac once, braced myself for the hell that was due to me, only to have him walk right by me. Almost as though I am invisible. Which is worse; being invisible or being yelled at all the time? I sigh. My side hurts. It's been bothering me all morning. So I pop a pain pill.

At least my head isn't bothering me. That's a good sign. It has to be. Maybe the pain is finally gone. For good. Flack hasn't called at all today. I don't understand why. I'm happy, though. I have no idea what to say to him. Just the thought of calling him makes my mouth go dry. We went places yesterday. Places way beyond friendship. There's no going back. Not now. Does he realize that? Is that why he hasn't called? I sit. It's an attempt to alleviate the pain that's still in my side. Damn pills don't work fast enough.

My phone rings. Is it Flack? With a shaky hand I pull my phone from my pocket. I smile when I see the number.

"Well, good morning, Aiden. What a surprise to hear from you," I say.

When she speaks I can hear the smile in voice. "Danny-boy, how about we do lunch today? I want to tell you all about my new job. Plus, I haven't seen you in so long."

Mac enters the room. Time for the morning chew-out. I hold up a finger to let him know that I'll just be a minute. "Lunch sounds like a great idea, Aiden. There are a few things I want to tell you too."

"Cool. I'll meet you at our favorite burger joint. About twelve, twelve-thirty-ish?"

"Sure. I can swing that. Listen, I hate to cut this short but Mac needs to talk to me."

"Alright." She sounds so disappointed. "Bye, Danny. See you soon."

"Goodbye, Aiden."

Mac waits politely until I return the phone to my pocket. He doesn't seem mad about anything. In fact, he seems a little worried. What did I do now to cause him worry? I try to think back to yesterday. Yes, I left work early. But Lindsay was going to cover for me. Then I remember. The evidence. I broke that glass tube. That must be what his problem is. I swallow nervously.

"So, Mac, what can I do for you?"

"Are you okay? You didn't have to come in today," he states.

"I'm feeling fine. Just a bit of pain in my side but that's going away. Why do you ask?"

He leans back against the table. "When I went looking for you yesterday Lindsay told me that you went home because your head was bothering you. I hope you're not overworking yourself."

_The hospital in all its stark whiteness is a secret. What do you think he would say if he knew you were there? Better yet, imagine his face if he knew about you and Flack. Just a towel… _

I shake my head. "Feeling fine. In fact, I nearly feel like my old self again." He smiles softly but the worry doesn't leave his eyes. What now? "Anything else I can do for you, Mac?"

"Just the oddness of life. Here you are, getting better. This means that you shouldn't be making anymore mistakes. Yesterday, I find out that Lindsay broke a glass tube thus ruining evidence." He shakes his head. "I wonder sometimes.." He doesn't finish.

Lindsay covered for me. She took the wrap for the glass. Why? Why would she do that? For me? I've never been nice to her. I feel so guilty. She's been trying to be friends and I've been giving her the cold shoulder. All because she isn't Aiden.

_Life goes on… _

I will have to think of a way to thank her. She did so much for me yesterday. I'm sure Mac would have sent me home on a leave of absence had he known about the evidence. Too many mistakes. I need to stop it.

Mac gets up to leave. "Since you're feeling better, how about a little field work today? If a new case comes in, I'll send you. We'll see just how well you're feeling. Think you are up for the challenge?"

I smile. "Sure. I won't let you down. I promise." Mac leaves.

He runs into Stella right outside the door and they take off together. I still think they just need to hook-up. I smile as I get back to the evidence in front of me. I want to be in the field so bad. I can't stand to look at anymore test results. I'm getting tired of all the semen stains from the case Mac is working on. All I get from Hawkes and Stella are little bits of foreign substance. After so many days of processing evidence and nothing else, things begin to run together. Everything looks the same. It's a pain. I don't understand how the lab technicians stand it.

I want to go out in the field. That means there needs to be a crime. It's New York. We're not short on crimes. I'm not hoping for a severe crime. Just a crime. Maybe a robbery. Mugging. Anything. Just as long as it gets me out of the lab. In the meantime, I continue to process evidence. Lindsay is nowhere in sight and I wonder what happened to her. Did Mac send her home?

Another hour passes. Lunch is drawing closer. I can't wait to see Aiden. I've already made up my mind. I'm going to tell her about Flack. She's the only one I can trust. She might be a bit put-off but that's okay. At least I no longer work with her. I won't have to worry about her telling everyone else. It'll be our little secret. Maybe I can convince Flack to have a little dinner party type thing. Just for the three of us.

A knock at the door almost makes me drop the test results that I'm holding. I look up to see Lindsay standing there.

I smile. A genuine Danny smile. "Hi."

"Mac sent me to get you," she says. A little bit of her pep is gone. Is that my fault? "He gave me this address for you." She waves a small piece of paper in her hands. "It's your first job back out in the field."

"Really? What is it?" I ask as I set down the sheet of test results.

"A murder." She hands me the paper. "You go on. I get lab duty now. Amazingly Mac isn't too mad at me."

I hang my lab coat on the hook, remembering to retrieve my cell phone from the pocket. "Thank you, Lindsay," I say.

"It was worth the smile," she smiles.

I leave the lab promising to myself that I'll be nicer to Lindsay. Maybe I'll do lunch with her tomorrow. We could get to know each other better. It might not be as bad as I originally thought. She seems like a nice person. Why was I being rude to her to begin with?

_Lunch with Aiden….remember?_

I smack my head with palm of my hand. That's right, I made plans with Aiden. I'll just have to call her and cancel. Or postpone. Hey, genius idea, we can do dinner. If that doesn't work for her, I can invite her to do lunch with Lindsay and I tomorrow.

_Hold up, Danny-boy. You don't even know if you're doing lunch with Lindsay tomorrow. And what makes you think Aiden is going to want to do lunch with the person who replaced her? Stupid! Think for once, would you?_

As I climb into the SUV I look at the address. It's familiar but I can't place why. As I near the building a feeling of dread begins to etch its way into the back of my mind. I know this building. Why do I know this building? Then it hits me. I've been here. My heart begins to beat faster as panic sets in. No, please, no.

I grab my kit and make a beeline for the building. For the apartment that I know is upstairs. I slow myapproach as the officers come into view. I recognize a few of them. None of them look happy. One by one they slowly gather in the hallway. Leaving me to enter the apartment. The silence is deafening. None of the officers are inside. However, I hear one of them making a call to Mac. Yes, call him, he should be here. Not me. I don't want to be here.

The pain in my head begins to make itself known. I place the silver kit on the ground, near the front door. Slowly, I walk the floors of the familiar apartment. Barely breathing. This isn't fair. Please, don't do this. Not to me. Please. I turn the corner.

My eyes take in the white wall streaked with red. Blood. A message is scrawled in the blood. I feel the tears as they begin to fall. I haven't even read the message and already I know. I know what happened. I know it all. I try my best to concentrate on the words through the throbbing in my head.

"'Thank you for letting me get away the other day. This is a little token of my appreciation. Hope you like it, Danny,'" I read. My voice barely a whisper. No. I feel myself beginning to shake.

This isn't fair. If only….

I turn my head away. My eyes closed. I don't want to see it. I need to get out of here. I run from the apartment. Pass all the cops in the hallway. All ofthem are sad and do their best to leave me alone. I remember taking the stairs two-at-a-time. Almost tripping more than once. Who cares?

Outside I fall to my knees. The bile rising in my throat. I manage to hold back the sickness. Out of the corner of my eye I see another CSI SUV pull up. Mac climbs out, followed by Stella and Hawkes. Mac crouches beside me and places a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Danny," he says softly. "I shouldn't have sent you here. It took me too long to register the address. I'll have an officer drive you home."

I slowly get to my feet with the help of an officer. I recognize him as the rookie from the robbery case. The one who's wife recently had a baby. Life ends. Life begins. No one really cares. I close my eyes on the car ride home. I want to shut out the world forever. The ache inside leaves me feeling hollow.

At least I said goodbye, Aiden. At least I got to say goodbye.


	14. Lost in the Sea

**Title:** Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer:** Slash. Violence. Angst. Language. Character death.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Lost in the Sea**

The sun had gone down sometime ago. When exactly, I have no idea. I don't really care either. The cop drove me home. I hit my bed and lost all track of time. Nothing seems to matter anymore. Life goes on around me and I'm stuck. Stuck in a world of never-ending pain and endless emptiness. Nothing ever goes the way you. Never.

I feel the tears as they begin to fall again. This isn't fair. Why do I feel like the world has turned its back on me? My soul feels so empty. Does my heart beat? Where does one turn when a friend dies? I know that I can cry endless oceans of tears. It'll never bring her back. They never come back.

I bury my face in my pillow as another wave of emptiness hits me. This is all my fault. Of all the moments in my life, I wish I could have that one back. I wish to be back in that house with Flack. I'd pay better attention. Flack would be watching out for me. Hell, maybe I'd even remind him to check the entire place over first. So many things I wish I could re-do. So many things out of reach.

"Take it all away," I plead through the tears. "Just take it all away."

Take back the kisses. The thoughts. The love. All of his embraces. Just take it all away. Bring life back to the way it was. Bring her back to me. Take this pain and make me feel whole again. Wrap me up in a cocoon of peace. Remove me from the world. Just bring her back.

_Lose your friends, lose yourself._

I hear the knock on the door. Why answer it? Every single thing I do sets another plan in motion. Who knows, maybe if I answer that door, someone else will die. It'll be my fault again. It's always my fault. I turn onto my side and face the window. The stars outside are being slowly taken over by the clouds. I hug my pillow to my chest.

I never hear the door open. My mind is off in another world. Off trying to grasp at every last memory of Aiden. All the smiles and all the laughs. I may not hear him enter but I know that he's there. Let him be here. What can he do? He can't bring her back. He can't fill the void her death leaves behind.

He walks across my room. How he got in, I don't care. Maybe I was dumb and left the door unlocked. In the end, it never matters. He crouches down in front of me. His blue eyes filled with worry. For who?

"Danny," he says softly. "Danny…"

All he has to say is my name. I start crying again. I can tell that he's torn up inside. That he doesn't know what to do. No one ever does. They all try to think of a way to make the hurt go away. It never goes away. It lingers on. Just like the memories. Always there. Slowly, everything begins to remind you of that missing part in your life. And the guilt, the guilt builds up in you.

Flack gets up and leaves the room. I listen as he moves about my apartment. It's his first time here. He came to rescue me from the pits of my own hell. I close my eyes to the world, again. Bad idea. All I see is her. Smiling. Laughing. Roughing up some perp. Demanding the answers to questions. I climb from my bed.

"How does one live with the guilt?" I cry. "How do I go on knowing she died because of me?"

Flack turns to me. "Oh, Danny." His voice is filled with sorrow and hurt.

I cross my arms over my chest. I feel cold. "Why does life goes this way? Why do we have to hurt?" I feel the tears again. How many can there be inside of me? "I don't want to hurt anymore."

He comes to me. He wraps me in his embrace. An embrace filled with the warmth of life. "I want to make the pain go away, Danny. Believe me. But I can't. I'm sorry that I can't."

I return the embrace. "I don't understand how I can feel so empty inside. The feeling of being empty and yet, aching so much, how do I deal with it?"

"We all deal with it." I can hear the tears in his voice. "You're not alone, Danny-boy. I'm here. I'll hold you until all your tears have been cried," he whispers. "I'm here."

"I was supposed to have lunch with her today," I sob. "We were going to talk about her new job. I had already planned to tell her about you and I. Oh, god." The words get lost. Flack tightens his grip on me. "If I could have only seen her one last time. If only…At least I said goodbye."

Flack pulls away, keeping his hands on my waist. His eyes are red from crying. "I don't know what to say to make you feel better. There aren't any words that will ease your pain. There aren't any spells to make things right. All the prayers in the world wouldn't be enough to bring her back." His eyes gaze into mine. "I know that you two were great friends. You worked together. You spent so much time together. Time that I'm jealous of. And if it would put the smile back on your face, I would go to heaven myself and bring her back. But I can't. I'm sorry."

I take in every word that he says. He holds more pain inside about my unhappiness than he does about Aiden dying. The love, it's there, in his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. Always the same. They make me feel so far away from myself. Why his eyes? Why him? Why my life?

Instinct takes over and I kiss him. He kisses back. We enjoy the comfort of each other. The warmth of our bodies so close. I want to be loved. I want to feel like I'm alive. He can make me feel that way. He's always been able to. Kissing is getting boring. I move my hands to his waist. I fidget with the belt on his jeans. His hand stops me.

"No," he whispers. "I love you too much to take advantage of you."

I push away from him. More pain. The aching inside grows. I feel like crawling into a hole and never coming out again. I want to hide from the world for all eternity. Flack pulls me back into his embrace.

"Forgive me, Danny. I never want you to regret our love."

I manage to pull away again. Before he can reach out and take my heart I return to my room. The silence embraces me. Welcoming me. I climb into the bed. The cold bed. My gaze fixes on the outside world. The stars long gone now. Taken over by the grey clouds. A fitting night to match my soul inside. I close my eyes and wish myself away. Maybe if I wish hard enough it'll come true.

He climbs into the bed behind me. No words are spoken as he pulls me toward him. My eyes, now open, return to the darkness of a New York night. We lay together in the silence of the darkness for a while. Time has no meaning to me anymore.

"I love you, Danny," he whispers softly in my ear. He must think I'm sleeping. "God or no God, help me take his pain away. Please."

My mind drifts offand my eyes lose focus as I listen to Flack cry quietly. Love or no love, the pain is still there. It's always there.


	15. Whispers

**Title:** Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer:** Slash. Violence. Angst. Language. Character death.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Whispers**

I walk the lab with my head in a fog. I've been in pain all morning. My head aches and so does my side. My heart aches for the loss of Aiden. My world is all messed up. I probably shouldn't be at work. If Mac sees me, he'll probably say I should be home. I won't be surprised if he sends me back home. But I don't want to be there. It's empty and quiet. Too quiet. Flack wanted to stay with me. However, time was not working for him. Today he has is hearing with the Police board. I hope that things work out for him. I really do.

I see Stella and Hawkes walking down the hallway, heading in my direction. I mentally brace myself for the questions and sorrow they'll throw my way. Stella sees me, whispers something to Hawkes, who than looks up at me too. He says something in reply before they both disappear into one of the various rooms in the lab. Fine, avoid me.

I walk slowly passed Mac's office. It's empty. Is he at the hearing for Flack? I know that he talked with other detectives. If he's there, Flack will get his job back. Mac really likes him. How can you not like Flack? The state of New York would be dumb to fire him. He's a great detective. He only screwed up this one time. And only because of me.

Lindsay looks up from the papers in her hands as a get closer to her. She gives me a sad smile and a small wave. Some things never cease to amaze me. I've known Stella and Hawkes for years now. When tragedy strikes, they avoid me. Lindsay, a girl I hardly know and haven't been kind towards, shows more care than they do. What is my world coming to?

"I'm sorry to hear about your friend, Danny," she says. Her voice is filled with concern and a slight hint of sorrow with a drop of remorse. "If you need to talk, I'm here for you. Okay?"

That's the second time I hear those words. Flack said that to me last night. "Okay," I mutter. I don't want to talk. I really should say something else to her. She's been so kind to me. It's wrong to be so rude. My mother would be ashamed of me.

I walk a few steps before turning back toward her. She's studying the paper work in her hand again. "Lindsay, I know I haven't been that nice to you, and I'm sorry."

She gives me a nice smile. "It's okay. I understand. There's a chance I would have done the same, had I been in your shoes. Everyone reacts to change differently. Don't worry about it."

She walks away before I can reply. Why is she so nice to me? Why is anyone nice to me? I turn and continue walking toward the Trace Lab. I have work to do. I want to show Mac that I am a dedicated member of this team. Even when my friend is murdered.

_She died because of you. It's your fault. It's always your fault. Can't you see? Flack could be fired because of you. What kind of person are you? Being responsible for one friend dying and the other losing their job. What a shame you are, Daniel Messer._

I close my eyes. My hand rests on the door to the lab. I can't be here. As much as I want to stay, it's not right. I don't belong here. Mac will understand. He will, won't he? I quickly turn and begin to retrace my steps. I'm going to go home. No one will miss me here. Lindsay is busy with paperwork. Mac isn't even here. Hawkes and Stella feel the need to avoid me. I feel like I carry a plague with me. I'll just go home to my quiet apartment and wait for Flack to return. It'll be nice. Maybe the quiet will make the pain in my head go away. Something has to, right?

The walk out of the building is easy. No one stops me in the halls. Yet again, I feel so invisible. The feeling is comforting. This scares me. I don't want to be invisible. I want to hear Aiden laugh again. I want Flack to keep his job. I want my life back. Can't I have my life back?

The ride home is spent in silence. I don't even bother to turn the radio on. Why bother? The music is always up beat and happy. I don't want to listen to that. All I want to hear is a voice that cares deeply for me. It can belong to anyone, as long as they love me.

I trudge up the stairs to my apartment. Walking passed so many brown doors that look alike. The sounds of the tenants are muffled. Someone is cooking pizza one the first floor. A baby is crying on the second floor. A couple is fighting on the third flour. Life revolving around me. Everyone with their own problems. Their own ways to cope. I open my door and I'm greeted by my good friend, the darkness.

I throw my keys into the black that is my apartment. I can worry about finding them another time. I stumble to the kitchen, looking for my pain medication. My body aches. The medicine will make the pain go away and bring sleep to me. I pop two pills. I should only be taking one. Does it matter, though? Two should cut down on the pain a whole lot faster. Life will be easier when the pain is gone.

A peek into the fridge for something to drink. There has to be something good. I rummage around. Moving the milk, the bottled water, and even the soda. None of that is appealing to me. There's nothing else in the fridge. I close the door in frustration. There has to be something. I begin to open the cabinets. One by one. I know it's here. I remember getting it as a gift from my brother. Where did I put it? It's just what I need to chase away the words in my head.

My eyes finally fall on the treasure I seek. A bottle of whiskey. I pluck it from the cabinet. I pop the top and inhale; it smells like a good night of sleep. A little voice inside nags me about drinking. Haven't I been down this road before? Why yes, I have. At least I won't lose my way. I take a swig of the foul tasting liquid. Foul tasting or not, it'll put me to sleep. I'll be able to escape this world. It's about damn time.

I drink down more and stumble to my bedroom, bottle in hand. Nothing sounds better than drinking myself to sleep. Tomorrow I'll call my brother and thank him for the dreamless night. I'll also make a call into Mac, letting him know that I won't be in. He'll never know that I'm drinking. I flop down on my bed, removing my shoes. Another swig of whiskey before I place it on my night stand. I remove my shirt, ridding myself of the smell of the lab. Piling up my pillows I swing my legs onto the bed. I lean against the pillows, the bottle once again in my hands.

I take yet another drink. By now I notice that half the bottle is gone. What a pity. I don't even feel the slightest buzz. This won't be enough to knock me out for the night. Cursing, I sit up, placing the bottle on the night stand, and reacquainted my feet with my shoes. I grab the discarded shirt and put it back on. Bottle in hand, I leave my bedroom.

I down the last little bit of the whiskey before turning on a lamp to search for my keys. The darkness is pushed back by the dim light, creating an area of gray. I hardly register it. My keys are lying on the floor beside the couch. At least they didn't go under it. Leaving the light on, and the whiskey bottle on the coffee table, I leave my apartment. If I lock the door, I don't remember. My only thought is to find the nearest liquor store.

I climb into the elevator. My legs still hurt from walking the stairs when I returned home from work. The elevator will get me downstairs faster. Getting downstairs faster mans getting to the alcohol and finally to my dreamless sleep. I push the button for the first floor. I feel something nagging at me. Something in the back of my mind.

_Has does the little song go? The one about alcohol? Oh, that's right. It's about tequila, not whiskey. Let's see if it still applies. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila…_

The small elevator blurs and I feel dizzy. My heart races faster than a buzzing bee. I bite my tongue and taste the salty blood in my mouth. The pain in my head is growing stronger. This time it's accompanied by a numbness. Thankfully, my good friend, the darkness, comes to rescue me. Wrapping me in its loving embrace as I fall to the floor.


	16. Love Me

**Title:** Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer:** Slash. Violence. Angst. Language. Character death.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Love Me**

I feel myself climbing out of the pit of darkness. It's always nice to visit my old friend. The real world always calls me back though. What a pain. I expect to feel the hard floor of the elevator under me. Nope. The ground is soft and fluffy. I move my hand over it. My bed. How did I get to my bed? I don't remember walking here. I couldn't have. I passed out, didn't I?

A moan escapes my throat as I regain complete consciousness. I am right. I'm in my bed, in my bedroom, in my apartment. I sit up and the room spins slightly. I glare at nothing in particular. How did I get back here?

"Hey, sleepy head."

My gaze shifts from the floor to Flack. Bingo. There stands my answer. "Er…" What a reply.

He comes over and sits on the bed beside me. Boy, this gesture reminds me of my mother and how she would sit beside me when I was sick. I shake my head to chase the memories away. Flack is studying me with those intense blue eyes.

"What?" I manage to say.

"You had me worried. You really shouldn't drink an entire bottle of alcohol after taking pain medication. They don't mix well," he replies.

I give him a questioning look.

He shifts his weight to make himself more comfortable. "I came over to check on you when Mac told me that you had left work early. I found you passed out in the elevator. Let me tell you, that was a scary sight. I didn't know what was wrong with you. I brought you back up here and put you in your bed. When I saw the open medicine bottle and the empty whiskey bottle, I put two and two together," he explains. "Why Danny?"

"It was too quiet here."

He rubs my back. It sends shockwaves through my body. "I'm here now. So no more mixing pills and alcohol. You've been out for some time," he says offhandedly.

"How long?" I close my eyes and enjoy his touch. It's nice to feel something warm. The heat of someone who loves me.

"The entire day. I called Mac to tell him that you were suffering a migraine."

"Wow, the entire day? Have you been here the whole time?"

"Yes," he nods. "I didn't have anything else to do. And I wanted to make sure that you were indeed okay. Another hour and I was going to take you to the hospital."

I chuckle. "Good thing I woke up than. I hate seeing the inside of that place." He continues to rub my back. I open my eyes to look at him. He smiles. Something finally claws its way to the top of my mind. "Hey, I missed the whole hearing. How did it come out?"

His smile gets bigger. "I get to keep my job. I don't know how Mac did it, but he convinced them to give me back my badge. I'm on desk duty for two weeks. I can handle that, though. No problem."

I hug him. "That's great news."

I don't want to stop hugging him. I like having his arms around me. He smells great. A scent that his uniquely his. I loosen my embrace just a little to kiss him. His lips and mine meet, happy to have each others company. My mind flashes back to the last time we were in bed together. Where would we have gone had I not been in pain?

_You are not in pain now…_

I make the kiss a little deeper, a little needier. Flack responses with just as much hunger. With a bit of maneuvering, in which are lips never part, I find myself lying on my back again. The same as last time. Let Flack lead the way. Let him take me down the road. I'll follow him anywhere. All he has to do his take my hand. He already has my heart.

Dying for the love that I know belongs to me I begin to tug his shirt from the waist of his pants. He doesn't stop me. I pull it free. Flack pulls away. I want to reach out and drag him back to me. My body aches. For once it's not the pain in my head that is causing it. My body aches for him and the release that only he can give me. He removes his shirt and without much fuss he removes mine.

The room is chilly but I hardly feel it. All I feel is the warmth running off our bodies. We resume kissing. Both of us hungering for the same thing. He traces a hand down my bare chest, following it with kisses. Every time that his lips touch me my body melts a little more from the pleasure. He kisses my neck and gives it a little nibble.

I know where I want this to go. I want it to go all the way. The way it would have been last time. Does he want it to?

_Only one way to find out, Danny-boy._

I move my hands to his waist. My fingers find the button of his pants. His hand finds mine and holds it in his. Damn, not again.

"Danny," he whispers in my ear.

I don't let get the rest of the words out. "Don't stop, Flack. Please, don't stop."

In response he kisses my neck again. He places my hand on his bare chest. It's already covered in a thin layer of sweat. He shifts his weight again. I feel as he slowly and gently moves his hand down my stomach and into the waist of my pants. He touches me. Surprise is quickly washed away by the burning passion inside. I don't even try to suppress the moan.

_Let's get him naked already. He's taking too long. Come on…_

I place a hand on his wrist to get his attention. "If we're going to do this we have a few garments to remove, don't you think?"

"It would appear so," he replies. With such a fluid motion he's standing beside the bed and working the button of his pants.

"Wait," I whisper. "Let me." With the hunger growing stronger inside I quickly remove his pants. I take in the picture of him standing in his boxer briefs, storing it away for later use. Then I remove them too. He stands in the moonlight, a beautiful masterpiece of sculpture.

He smiles a little evil grin. "Well, since you removed mine, I assumer that means I get to remove yours."

"As you wish," I reply. I stand from the bed.

He kisses my lips. Then my neck. He continues to travel farther down my body, leaving a trail of kisses behind. He slowly removes my pants. Then starts on my boxers, savoring the sight as he lowers them to the floor. He stands, his eyes once again locking with mine. The blue of them sending the passion inside even higher. He lets his fingers trail against my lower half ever so softly. It sends waves of passion up and down my spine, and I actually shiver. I don't know how much more I can take.

We're lying on the bed again. Kissing. Touching. Our sweaty bodies glisten in the moonlight that streams through the open curtains. The time finally comes and our bodies melt together into one. I enjoy his every touch. His every kiss. Every part of his body. Then it comes to an end and I'm soaring. Soaring far from this world and all its misery.

His kisses return me to the here and now. We embrace and try to slow our labored breathing. The high releases us and we drift off to sleep.

* * *

I wake later in the night. At some point we parted ways. I'm now lying on my side, gazing out the window. My breathing is normal again. My body free of its sweaty covering. I chill passes me and I shiver.

"Cold?" Flack asks. He cuddles up behind me, draping an arm over me. I relax into him.

I place my hand on his momentarily. "I can't be cold when you're here. Promise me you won't leave," I whisper.

"I promise I won't leave. Never." He kisses my shoulder.

Once again we drift off to sleep. A sleep that is pleasant for me. Everything seems right in the world. Let tomorrow come. Let it bring whatever hell it wants to bring. I'll be ready to face it. I have love to protect me.


	17. Hitting the Ground

**Title:** Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer:** Slash. Violence. Angst. Language. Character death.

**POV**: Danny

**Chapter Sixteen: Hitting the Ground**

Flack was gone when I got up the next morning. A note in the kitchen let me know that he had left for work. He didn't want to make the people in charge regret their decision to let him keep his badge. I smile. Once a detective, always a detective. I crumble the note and throw it into the trash can. A picture on the fridge catches my eye. My happy mood is quickly torn from my grasp. A picture of Aiden and me at the last company Christmas party. In the picture we are standing under the mistletoe, but not kissing. Instead she's smiling from ear to ear while behind her I pull a childish prank and give her bunny ears. Good times. I sigh.

I decide that staying home will just depress me and drive me crazy. I wonder if Mac will be upset to see me in work. There's only one way to find out. I check the clock on the stove. I still have more than enough time to get ready and be there like it is a normal day. Like this week has been nothing but good times.

It doesn't take me long to shower, change, and drive to over to work. All the company cars are present, so everyone is here. No cases? This shakes me up a bit. Why isn't anyone out looking for that bastard that murdered Aiden? I shake my head. Get a grip. There is evidence to process first. Always start with the evidence. Of course, that's where I'll go. That's how I'll start my day.

I wave to the secretary out front and give her a small wave. She returns both gestures with a hint of surprise. My body is currently torn in two; a side of me is happy with how things are in my life, the other side is trying to drag me down. A war raging inside. I can only imagine how I look on the outside.

"Are you alright?"

I glance to my side. "Yes, healthy as a horse, I would. Course, I don't really knowing anything about horses."

Mac smiles. "Your spirit seems to have improved. I'm happy to see that." He stops. I stop and turn to him. His face holds a serious look. "Danny, I can honestly tell you that death is not an easy thing to deal with. I'm sorry and I miss Aiden, too. So don't feel like you're alone in this."

I smile to mask the pain inside. I guess I know which side is winning. "Thank you, Mac. I never thought of myself as being alone. She was as much your friend as mine. I'll just work extra hard to catch the jackass responsible."

He furls his brow. "Now, now, Danny, be careful. Don't go letting anger be your judgment. You have to follow the evidence. Not your own hatred."

"I know." I feel like a child getting a lecture. Mac always has a habit of making me feel that way.

"Well," he says standing straighter, "I should go check on incoming cases. You get to work. The people in charge are starting to notice your lack of work ethic lately."

He leaves before I can comment on that little tidbit of info. How interesting. Is he trying to tell me that my job is on the line? Have I not just gone through this with Flack? I sigh and continue my way to the lab with the mounds of waiting evidence.

Hawkes stops me next. What a surprise, I figured he would still be avoiding me. "Danny, you look good. Happy."

That's all he says before Stella comes along with a file in hand and whisks him away. As I watch them walk away Stella glances back over her shoulder, shooting me her trademark smile. Why does it seem like everything in the world is the way it should be? It's as though Aiden never died. Do they just not care? Can they really be that cold hearted?

Whatever.

My stomach growls so I detour to the break-room. Once again I've left the house without eating breakfast. Déjà vu. Lindsay is inside grabbing a banana. She giggles softly as I reach for an apple.

"Haven't we been here once before?" She asks.

"Yes, I do believe that we have. Life has its own little mysteries. Ones that even we can't solve."

"So true." She eyes me up and down, studying me.

I take a bit of my apple. "What? Something wrong?"

"There's something different about you." Her eyes begin to twinkle. "Did you really have a migraine yesterday? Or was it something else?" She asks coyly.

I almost choke on the piece of apple in my throat. "What the hell are you talking about?" Tears of pain come to my eyes.

Her attitude changes quickly. Her posture straightens and her eyes lose that miniscule sparkle. I turn around to see Stella standing behind us. I give her a wave.

"Morning, Stella," I say.

"You two are actually getting along? Has hell frozen over and no one notified me?" She grabs a cup of coffee. The look on her face is unpleasant. What is her problem all of a sudden? Wasn't she just smiling at me in the hallway? "Tootles," she says sweetly.

I look to Lindsay for an answer. She just shrugs her shoulders and follows Stella out. I throw the apple core away. Okay, I was fast at jumping to conclusions. Things are still not right in the world. Stella has a problem with me being nice to Lindsay. Jealousy? Impossible, she likes Mac. I know she does.

_Think, Messer, with Aiden out of the way Stella is a prime candidate for your best friend. Or so she thought. She never thought that you would get along with Lindsay. Maybe Stella feels left out. Maybe…_

I sigh. Woman. Thank the stars above that I have Flack. He's easy to read. Easy to understand. I head for the evidence lab. The time to work is now. I can dwell on other things after work. Like what Flack and I will be doing tonight. The plan is already running through my head to call him later and invite him over. He'll say yes. I know he will. With the flourish of a happy guy I don my lab coat and get to work, losing myself in the task at hand.

Hours must pass while I work for the next thing I know someone is standing beside me. I glance up to see Stella.

_Change her name to Wicked Witch…_

"Something I can help you with?" I ask curtly.

The look on her face is an unpleasant one. "Just run this through for me." She hands me a bag of something green. Possibly a drug. Her tone is icy. What is her problem?

"Can do. I'll have it for you by lunch time," I remark, turning back to the microscope in front of me.

"It is lunch time." The words come out like venom.

I look at her. "Sorry, I must have lost track of time. I'll get it to you by the end of the day than." Her eyes grow darker. "Make that an hour."

She storms from the room. I relax. What the hell has gotten into Stella? Why must women be temperamental and get jealous about friendships? I don't see how turning to Lindsay instead of Stella is such a problem. Lindsay stepped up. She was there when I needed the help. Stella was avoiding me. It is easy to see how I made my choice. In time, Stella will get over it. Won't she? I can only hope.

Flack enters the room, looking back over his shoulder. "What the hell is wrong with her?" He asks as though read my mind.

"She has a bug up her butt about me being nice to Lindsay," I remark.

"Really? Women." He shakes his head. He steps further into the room and after a quick look around kisses me.

"Hey," I protest. "Last time you did that someone saw us."

His eyes take on that surprised look that always turns them from blue to the color of the ocean. "Oh? You never told me that. Who was it? Please tell me it wasn't Stella."

I chuckle. "No, it was Lindsay. And judging by the way she looked at me today, I'm an open book and she now knows about last night."

"So?"

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Not one bit. I don't see how it's any of her business. So I loved you last night. I watched you sleep for a while before going to work this morning. The end of the world hasn't come yet," he states.

"True." I smile. "I did enjoy last night. Though I was a little heartbroken to find you gone when I woke up. Playing Mr. Good Cop today?" I joke.

He gives me a mock salute. "Yes, captain. I'm actually here to see Mac and thank him for the help. Than I need to rush back to over to my desk and continue filling out the boring, mindless paperwork."

"It's only for a short time," I tell him.

He chances another kiss before he leaves me alone. Something in my mind is nagging at me. What it is, though, I can't tell. The world isn't right. I wish I had the time to figure out what it was but the evidence wasn't going to process itself. So I dig back in.

Stella stands in the doorway, sending chills my way. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. My body is instantly filled with a foreboding feeling. I turn to her.

"Well, wasn't that quaint? I wonder what the chief of police will think when he finds out that his golden boy detective is sleeping with a CSI. A male CSI." The color drains from my face. "There's only one way to find out and I'm very curious."

She turns and leaves. I don't move. I can't. Now I know what the nagging feeling is. It's the dread that something bad is going to happen. Like my world falling down around me.


	18. Falling Forever

**Title:** Their Love, Her Murder

**Disclaimer:** Slash. Violence. Angst. Language. Character death.

**POV**: Danny

**

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Falling Forever**

The sun washes the sky with its light. The gentle breeze runs over my skin. Clouds chase each other across the blue ocean of the sky. I sit on the flat surface of the roof. Even up here the city is noisy. My thoughts remain uninterrupted. As a small mouse runs for cover in some little nook or cranny I think about the others. What are they doing right now? Do they notice that I'm missing?

Lindsay and Hawkes are probably really busy with their case work. I know how that is. So they won't notice the fact that I'm missing. Mac is most likely furious that I am not at work. He did tell me that I was close to losing my job. That's okay; I have plans of my own. I won't need my job after today. None of the lab assistants will notice my being gone. They take little notice of anything but their work.

Stella. Ha, who cares if Stella notices? I wish I could understand what happened to her. We had been friends, albeit not good friends. Still, one would think she'd be nicer to me. All of a sudden, though, it's fire and brimstone. How did I piss her off? Was it something I said? Something I did? Or is just because I love Flack and she's not happy with that? I know that not all people accept that kind of love. Why not? Why can't I love him and be happy? Why does the world frown upon me? Am I not allowed the same happiness as every other person?

I sigh. The answer to that question is well known. Of course I'm not allowed to be happy like everyone else. The panic from last night tries to get a hold of me again. I don't Stella telling everyone about me. Flack will lose his job. I just know he will. Yes, he can sue them over it. But things will never be the same. We both stand to lose so much. I can't do that to him. He doesn't deserve to have his life ruined because of my stupidity.

I spent last night sleeping beside him. Just sleeping and nothing more. The comfort he brings is always welcome. While he was in the shower this morning I wrote him a note and left it in his wallet. My plan is for him to find it around lunch time. Then he'll know everything there is to know. It'll be too late but he'll know.

From my pocket I pull a photo. The photo is almost identical to the one on my fridge. It's at the same party. Instead of Aiden and me under the mistletoe though; it's Aiden, Flack, and I hanging out with Santa. The smiles we are all wearing seem so fake, so phony. I feel the tears as they leave their marks on my cheeks. How quickly life can change. It takes us all by shock. Things never return to the way they once were and we're left to cope, to adapt. Neither of which I am doing very well.

The next thing I pull from my pocket is the bottle of medicine. Almost empty now. I shake it and listen to the contents rattle around. Then in frustration I chuck it across the roof. It clatters somewhere off in the distance. I don't need it anymore. I'll never need it again. My head doesn't hurt anymore. Nothing hurts. It's all numb. I'm numb.

I hold my head in my hands while I cry. Everything that has happened is finally being released. Crying doesn't seem like enough. Not anymore. Tears can keep coming. They can't right the wrongs in my life. They can't make me feel better. Happy. I'll never feel like myself again. I'm lost inside this shell of humanity.

I stand, taking charge of my life. The words scrawled on a white piece of paper flash back in my mind. The note I left Flack. I close my eyes and let it all come back to me. Just one last time. One last thought of him.

_Flack, where do I begin? How do I put into words what I feel? With you, my life should be completely. I have your love. It's the only thing I have wanted for so long. I can't even imagine expressing to you the joy I felt when I found out those feelings were shared and not just some dream. I'd hold you close forever. If I had the time. But I feel as though I'm losing control. Right now you're probably sitting at some restaurant getting ready to pay for your lunch, my note having caught your eye. I can see you reading this with a questioning look, trying to figure out what I'm going to say. What's the punch line, Danny? Right? It's coming. It's been coming for a while now. Remember back for me. Remember to that case with the druggy girl. The one who jumped from the building because she was high. I understand her now. It wasn't the drugs. It was the thought of flying. Of being free of this world. Of growing wings and soaring above all the pain and hatred flowing through the veins of the world. I really understand her now. I truly do. It all seems so right. I love you and always will. I'll be falling for you for eternity. I want to be free. My head doesn't hurt anymore…_

Too cryptic? No, he'll figure it out. He's a good detective. By the time he gets to his lunch it'll be done. It'll be all over the news and he'll know. Whether or not he finds my note. I open my eyes. Like I wrote, I want to be free. It's time for me to be free. To rid my soul of the torment it's been holding on to. There's no need for it to be there. I walk the short distance. It's an interesting feeling, looking down on the world.

A door behind me slams shut. Footsteps on the roof. Too late.

"Danny?"

I'm not going to answer you Flack. You shouldn't be here. I smile softly. Guess he got my note a little earlier than expected. No problem. Things are going to go as planned. My mind is made up. The decision is here.

"Danny? Danny, please answer me." His voice has picked up a slight panic.

Panic, something that left me last night. Everything left me. There is no thought. Just existence. I step up on the little ledge. The cars crawl along the street in their usual fashion. People rush about like little ants in a giant world. They try to pretend that everything is okay. Fools. All of them are fools.

"Danny!" Flack sees me. I'm sorry, Flack. I really am. It's too late.

I open my arms and slowly lean forward. It's just too late for me…

**Fin.**


End file.
